Come Together
by Kohaku no Hime
Summary: A series of ficlets set before, during, and after the anime, all of which involve our three favorite bikers: Raphael, Alister, and Valon.
1. Changes for the Better

_Hello, fellow reader. If this is the first time you have stumbled across my story, then welcome; if this is not your first visit, then welcome back._

_Originally there was a whole different chapter titled "Author's Note" that this information was found on, but in light of FFN admins starting to crack down on fics I finally came back around and fixed it. _

_Let me start by saying that this whole collection was initially started when Valkyrie Revolution made a request asking to see how the biker's friendship was founded. Her original request is in here, as are others; each of these chapters are set in different times, so there will be advance notice of whether or not it is set during canon, post-series, pre-series, etc._

_If you have a request, fellow reader, don't hesitate to let me know, but keep in mind that: 1) this and other works of mine are non-yaoi, non-yuri, and non-incest, so please don't ask for any such material; and 2) this story will be complete at 200 chapters, so if you are reading this after the fic is complete your request will not make it into the story (though, depending, it might make it as a separate oneshot)._

_With that, here's the first chapter to this story. This is set post series and I hope you enjoy it._

* * *

They had changed.

Granted, he could not very well knock on their door and stick around to chat. He sincerely doubted they would welcome him into their home, especially after what he had done to them; one did not tend to either forgive or forget after having their lives ruined and altered for his purpose. Besides, his travels had brought him full circle to this corner of the world and he figured a quick check up would not hurt.

That was what this corner of the house across from theirs was for: he could observe them without too much worry of being seen.

As he looked through the window into the room beyond (another blessing of his current position—the window did not have blinds) and watched the three men sitting there, he noticed that they all were different than they had been back in DOOM.

He doubted enough time had passed since DOOM's downfall to warrant a complete transformation of personalities, and even now he could spot the constants in the three men he was watching; the red-haired man was still sitting a distance away from the other two, the youngest had a youthful and boundless energy that was evident as he argued good-naturedly with the other man, and the blond burly man was currently reading a book, looking up occasionally to supposedly curb the argument.

Yet there were changes, in some cases subtle, and he was able to see the difference. The cold and aloof persona of the redhead had lifted to an extent and his expression was not so distant and closed; the wild-haired brunette seemed to check himself at moments if he sensed he was going too far in the arguments; and the eldest of them was far more relaxed than he'd ever been back at DOOM, whether because the stress of the job had been lifted or because he had finally settled down.

He smiled softly to himself. That was good. Changes for the better were needed, and after everything they'd been through they deserved this chance of normalcy that they'd missed out on because of him.

"Glad to see you're all doing so well," Dartz said gently, and then he pulled the hood of the cloak over his head and continued on his way.


	2. April Fools Day

_This chapter is set post-series and follows the timeline set by all my other stories involving the bikers, minus "The Return"._

* * *

April Fool's Day.

If it was one thing that he hated about April, it was the very first day of the month—April Fool's was not his favorite day of the year. And when one accounted the fact that he had a younger friend who reveled in mischief, Alister overly despised the date.

And unfortunately for him, today was that day.

Alister lay in his bed that Saturday morning, reluctant to move in the slightest for fear of setting off one of Valon's traps. The younger boy was unafraid of pulling a prank on him that involved his bedroom; one of his pranks that had occurred in DOOM had entailed turning all of Alister's furniture upside down and bolting them to the ceiling (Alister still had no idea how the teenager had pulled that off; he suspected he had gotten help from Raphael on that one, though the older blonde denied it fervently).

Another notable bedroom prank had been one executed on Gurimo—the boy had liberally strewn marbles on the man's bedroom floor before spreading at least thirty mousetraps on the surface. Then he had set an air horn off in the man's ear, causing Gurimo to roll off his bed and onto the floor.

…Those were very good reasons for Alister to remain motionless on his bed.

Cautiously, Alister sat up on his mattress, his gray eyes scanning for any discrepancies in his bedroom. He pitied Raphael—though the older man was better liked by Valon it did nothing to protect him from April Fool's Day (then again nothing was sacred on this day). Not to mention that the older man was a perfect target, since he was usually so sleepy in the morning that he never noticed anything until it was far too late.

Raphael usually had simple pranks sprung on him: tripwires strung in the door, water balloons rigged to fall when a door opened, having his keys hidden, that sort of thing. Alister, however, usually got Valon's more creative pranks pulled on him, and he was certain that this year was not different from all the other years of interacting with Valon.

When they had still been in DOOM, not even Dartz had been spared from Valon's mischievousness.

Alister was pleasantly surprised when he got out of bed and nothing happened. He was pleased even further when, upon entering the bathroom for his morning shower, he noticed that nothing had been messed with (Valon had once rigged a package of Kool-Aid to the showerhead, and Dartz had come out of the deal with bright blue skin; the color hadn't faded for a week and a half afterward).

He began to wonder if Valon had forgotten what today was as he cautiously stepped out of the shower and still nothing happened to him; judging by the fact he had not heard any muffled thumps or yelps of pain from the hallway, it was safe to assume that Raphael had not set off anything yet. Alister got himself dressed in the bathroom (making certain nothing was in the clothing), marveling at this fact.

Cautiously, he eyed the tube of toothpaste warily, inspecting it thoroughly before placing some on his toothbrush and experimentally poking at it; the Australian teenager had even gone so far one year as to replace all of their toothpaste with glue, and Alister cared not to repeat the experience.

The toothpaste did not stick to anything this time, and after waiting for five minutes to be certain the toothpaste wasn't booby trapped Alister decided it was alright to brush his teeth. Feeling bold at this success he brushed out his hair and picked up the hair-dryer, turning it to his face and flicking it on.

WHOOSH!

Alister's vision was filled with white and a powdery substance flew up his nose and into his mouth. Sputtering and coughing wildly Alister stumbled forward, rubbing at his eyes frantically and feeling for the doorknob with his other hand. Feeling the round object beneath his palm, he turned it and opened the door, hurrying forward to escape the powder—

—only to find that his head met with what seemed to be Saran-Wrap and he ended up getting clothes-lined and tumbling to the floor. The back of his head contacted the doorframe, and he let out a shout of pain, clutching his head in agony.

From above him, he could hear Valon laughing, and he opened one of his watering eyes to look up at his young friend, seriously debating whether it was worth the effort to kill the boy.

The brunette was almost doubled over in laughter, trying desperately to catch his breath as he looked down at Alister. He was laughing so hard that tears were coming out of his eyes. "Your face…oh, your face!" he gasped out, falling to his knees.

Alister growled, rising to his feet and forcing the substance off his face—it smelled like baby powder—before glowering at Valon, every portion of his body filled with wrath. "Five seconds," he said at last in a fairly calm tone, though it shook with anger. "You. Gone. Not in my sight. Five seconds and counting."

Still laughing, Valon scrambled to his feet and disappeared down the stairs. The redhead, counting to ten in his head slowly, calmed down enough to realize that he had not seen Raphael. He hadn't heard from him, either—not even a shout to let Alister know that Raphael had stumbled into whatever prank Valon had set up. That was not a good omen.

As if on cue a very pained yell came from Raphael's bedroom. This was followed by a rather loud crash, and it was enough to make Alister more than a little concerned about Raphael's well-being. Hurrying down the hallway, he arrived at the door to Raphael's bedroom and reached out to open the door.

Raphael seemed to have temporarily gained Alister's gift of mind reading.

"Alister, don't touch the doorknob," came the older man's muffled voice through the door. "Valon did something to it."

Frowning, Alister bent down to inspect the door. Tentatively, he held his open palm out over the surface and felt the heat coming off from it. At the same moment, he noticed a blow torch that had been discarded on the hallway table.

"I'll say he did something to it—he heated up the doorknob. How's your hand?"

"…Burned. If I wasn't awake before, I am now."

Alister went back to the bathroom to retrieve a hand towel and some aloe vera before he padded back down the hall. Grasping the doorknob with the towel, he opened the door and walked into the room to help his fallen friend.

Or at least he tried to.

Valon had covered the inside of Raphael's doorway in Saran-Wrap, which meant that Alister—who hadn't been paying attention—fell backward and onto the floor once again. He growled in vexation, getting back to his feet and tearing down the plastic angrily.

Raphael was watching Alister from where he had landed on the floor with a mixture of amusement, annoyance, and bewilderment. "What happened to you?" he asked, holding his burned hand.

"Baby powder in the hair dryer," replied Alister curtly, handing the bottle of aloe vera to Raphael.

The blonde took it in his uninjured hand, looking toward the stairway; the two of them could hear Valon roaring in laughter from wherever he was hiding beneath them. Raphael then looked over at Alister.

"Revenge?" he asked.

Alister nodded, his eyes narrowing. "Revenge," he confirmed.


	3. Happy Halloween!

_It's a little rushed since I was trying to get it out before midnight, but nonetheless I failed by thirty seconds. I also decided to update this whenever I feel like it, so disregard the author note as far as update schedule goes. Same description for this one as last time!_

* * *

"I KNEW IT!" shouted Valon dramatically, breaking the silence of the otherwise tranquil house.

Raphael, who had been quite engrossed in his current novel (in honor of Halloween, he had been reading _Dracula_) jumped and looked up from where he was comfortably seated in the family room. Misa meowed from where she was curled up on top of the blonde's legs and her gaze followed the older man's curiously.

The Australian teenager was pointing dramatically at Alister, who held a rather annoyed look on his face. The young man's normally red hair was now currently black; either he had temporarily colored it (which Raphael highly doubted) or he was wearing a wig. Alister was also clothed in a dark cape and a Victorian era suit, and his normally pale skin stood out against the dark cloth.

"Knew _what_, Valon?" asked Alister flatly, and Raphael noticed that the young man's canines were decidedly longer than normal.

"You're a bloomin' vampire, is what!" replied Valon. He gripped at his throat protectively and widened his eyes in feigned terror. "I always knew you weren' normal, 'specially since you 'ide up in your room all the time!"

"Ha ha," retorted Alister sardonically.

Raphael raised an eyebrow at Alister's outfit. "I didn't take you for being the trick or treating type," he commented, marking his page before setting the book down. He stood up and walked to the entryway, leaning against the door frame and folding his arms as he gazed at his younger friend.

"I'm not," replied Alister with a shrug, already disappearing down the hallway and reaching for his coat and motorcycle helmet.

"Where're ya goin'?" asked Valon, noticing that Alister was leaving.

"Out. I'll be back later on," came the brusque answer as the door shut behind him.

Valon blinked in surprise, looking over at Raphael in confusion. "Where on earth does 'e think 'e's goin' this time o' night? It's almos' trick 'r treatin' time," he said, eyeing the candy bowl on the nearby table greedily.

Raphael rescued the plastic bowl quickly, lifting it over his head and out of Valon's reach. The Australian growled in frustration, trying to jump and grab the bowl but failing. "Raph, usin' your 'eight is cheatin'!" he snapped.

"No you don't. This is for the children, not you. You'll be getting the left over candy, but until then you can't have any," Raphael said firmly, continuing to keep it out of reach of the shorter boy. "And it isn't cheating, it's using a natural advantage to its fullest."

"Still reckon it's cheatin'," the Australian grumbled, glancing at the clock before looking out at the almost dark windows. "You mannin' the door, mate? If ya aren' I could answer it."

Raphael nodded. "All right," he agreed amicably, returning to the family room to continue reading his book.

As an afterthought, he stuck his head back through the doorway and said, "Don't touch any of that candy, Valon."

"…Dangit."

* * *

"TRICK OR TREAT!"

Valon winced at the overeager clamor of children's voices, but he couldn't resist grinning as he gazed down at the two boys that were on the front porch. "'Ere now, what 'ave we 'ere? I see someone that looks like Superman, and tha' fella looks like Batman. Those're m' favorite super'eroes, y'know," he remarked, placing a hand full of candy in each of their bags.

The boys giggled, running off to meet their parents who were waiting at the edge of the walkway. "He talks funny," said Superman as he rejoined his mother.

Valon flushed indignantly. "Oi, now. I don' talk that funny!" he called after them.

Raphael looked up from his book with raised eyebrows. "Compared to most people, you do."

The teen snorted, shutting the door behind him. "Yeah, yeah…tha' looks like that's the last of 'em," he said, a grin appearing on his face as he stared down at what was left of the candy; the look Valon had would make the Cheshire Cat proud. "I was beginnin' t' worry that there'd be none left."

Noticing the stern look Raphael was giving him, Valon rolled his eyes. "And I didn' short change anybody, Raph. Every one o' those kids got three 'r four pieces o' candy."

Raphael glanced at the clock before sighing in resignation. "All right, Valon. _Now _you can eat the candy," he said.

Valon let out a delighted yell and promptly disappeared out of the room with the bowl.

"And don't eat all of it," called Raphael after him.

At that same moment, Alister slipped inside the door, hanging his coat up. He was in time to watch a blur that he could safely assume was Valon practically fly up the stairs. Shaking his head, he took off his cape and padded into the family room where he knew Raphael was.

"I'm guessing we aren't seeing any of that candy again," said Alister wryly, taking off his wig.

Raphael nodded, watching Alister as the redhead flopped onto the sofa wearily. "I had to force him to not eat the candy all night." The blonde eyed Alister for a moment longer before he asked, "How was the Halloween party?"

A rare look of surprise flashed across his younger friend's face. "How…?"

"You left a flyer out on the table last week, and you've been disappearing every other day. Plus your outfit tonight gave it away," said Raphael in amusement.

Alister, who had been looking for a job at the same time that Raphael had been, had found that a position was open in the nearby family center as a daycare volunteer. Given his history with children, Alister had instantly cottoned to the job; though he was not getting any money for it he was doing something he liked. He had not told either Raphael or Valon where he had gone, mostly since he was volunteering for free, but also because it was not in his nature to explain where he'd gone.

The older man did not further elaborate, however, and Alister knew that he didn't need explain why he hadn't told them. Raphael had understood well enough—he didn't need any more explanation than what Alister had given him.

Valon reappeared down stairs, still carrying the candy bowl. "I'm kinda thirsty. We got any—oi, Alister. When'd you get back?"

"Just now," said Alister, stepping past Valon. "And if you don't mind, I'd like to get these fangs out before they damage my real teeth."

As Alister disappeared up the stairs Valon gained a mischievous grin. Raphael, who had been about to resume reading his book, happened to notice the smile and instantly went on guard. "Valon, what did you do?" he asked wearily.

"Oh… nothin' much," said the Australian far too innocently.

There was a loud crash, followed the sound of splashing water and Alister's yelp of surprise.

"There's a reason those kiddies say trick 'r treat, mate," said Valon, laughing as he quickly fled the room.

Raphael instantly decided that he was double checking everything in his bedroom and the bathroom before he went to bed that night.


	4. Hiccups

_Same description as the previous two, and inspired in part by my biology teacher._

* * *

"Hic!"

Twitch.

Silence.

"Hic!"

Twitch twitch.

Another stretch of silence.

"_Hic_!"

"Valon, for pity's sake hold your breath!" snapped Alister at last, looking away from the television long enough to deliver a scorching glare to his younger friend. Raphael also glanced at the young teen pityingly, but he said nothing; he had gotten back from a long day at work and frankly was too worn out to comment.

Valon hiccupped again, looking miserably at Alister. "Already tried—hic—that, mate. It's—hic—jus' not –hic—workin'."

"Then go drink some water or hold your breath, but at least _try_ to control your hiccups," growled Alister irritably, turning up the volume on the television.

Valon sighed (punctuated by another hiccup) and padded out of the room, going into the kitchen to get himself a cup of water. He filled it to the brim and then took a healthy swig out of it, but in the next second he hiccupped again and the Australian dropped the plastic cup, choking on the water he had ingested.

…Valon was convinced that his hiccups were out to get him.

Raphael must have heard the commotion, because in the next second he felt his left arm getting raised above his head. Valon continued to just cough until the water went down, then glanced up at the blonde in gratitude. "Thanks—hic—Raph."

The older biker raised an eyebrow. "Even after all that you still have the hiccups?"

"Yes," replied Valon, hiccupping loudly as he got the paper towel roll. He got on his knees and dropped a couple of paper towels on top of the spilled water before wiping it up and throwing the used paper away.

He was hiccupping all the while.

Valon hated the hiccups, especially since they began to hurt his stomach after the first few seconds. _Stupid bloody good-fer-nothin' buggers_, he thought angrily as he stalked back into the family room.

After a few more minutes of listening to Valon hiccup, Alister sighed and looked over at the brunette, his patience worn thin. "You said you tried to hold your breath, and Raphael said that the water didn't work."

"Hic—Yes. I'm tryin'—hic—my 'ardest t' stop, but it just isn' workin' and—hic—now it's 'urtin' my stomach. You 'ave any—hic—ideas that might—hic—make it stop?"

Alister raised an eyebrow in interest.

Raphael, correctly interpreting Alister's silence, said without looking away from the television, "Alister, you may not use this as an opportunity to get back at Valon for April Fool's Day."

"Now why would I want to get revenge? I just don't want to listen to him hiccup obsessively for the next ten minutes," replied Alister.

Ignoring Valon's distrusting look, Alister continued calmly, "Try doing a handstand while you're holding your breath."

Valon shot him an incredulous stare, while Raphael looked at Alister with raised eyebrows. "Wait 'alf—hic—a minute. That—hic—works?" asked the Australian

Alister shrugged. "Always works for me."

The mental image of the normally stoic redhead doing a handstand in the middle of the family room was so absurd Valon could not even picture it.

Hesitantly, Valon wandered to the corner of the room and glared balefully at both of his older companions. "If either of—hic—you laugh, I swear I'll—hic—get back at ya."

Alister rolled his eyes, while Raphael held up his hands in a reassuring manner. "We won't try anything, Valon," replied Raphael.

"Though," said Alister, getting to his feet, "you might want to do the handstand in the hall. That way, if you fall you don't hit the coffee table."

Raphael knew there was something horribly off about that logic, but then he had also noticed the almost wicked gleam in the gray eyes. There was nothing good about the way Alister was looking at the moment, and he almost felt inclined to rescue Valon from whatever the redhead had in mind.

…Almost.

Raphael had not forgotten about April Fool's Day.

He could vaguely hear Alister telling Valon to stay put in the handstand position while he went to get something from his bedroom, but the blonde made no effort to go see how the Australian was doing; he was certain he would not be able to keep a straight face, and Valon had made it clear he didn't want anyone laughing at him.

A few moments later, however, a startled yelp of shock had Raphael moving out of the family room to see just what Alister had done—Alister's definition of "revenge" generally entailed causing physical harm, and though he had never seriously hurt anyone Raphael was not about to make an emergency run to the hospital.

When he got to the doorway it was to find that Valon was dangling a few inches off the ground, a rope looped around his left ankle. The teen was far enough off the ground to prevent the brunette from being able to place his hands down, but not high enough to hurt him should the rope snap.

Raphael followed the rope with his eyes, and the ice-blue orbs came to rest on the wooden railing of the second floor balcony, where the rope was looped around it and tied securely. Alister was looking down at Valon, a rare look of amusement on his features and a barely suppressed chuckle trying to make its way out of him.

"Lemme—hic—down from 'ere, you bugger! I'm—hic—warnin' ya, you better let me—hic—down or else!" said Valon, flailing desperately in an attempt to free himself.

"I thought I said no revenge for April Fool's," said Raphael, trying to contain his own amusement.

"This is payback for Halloween," said Alister calmly. "I don't like having ice cold water being dumped on me."

"All right, already!" snapped Valon, continuing to struggle. "You –hic—got me back good. Now—hic—lemme down!"

Raphael looked up at the young man with mild interest. "Did you have this planned out beforehand?"

"Not necessarily. I was going to do this to him when he was asleep, but then he got the hiccups and gave me the perfect excuse to do this."

The eldest of the three shook his head. "If that balcony breaks you're replacing it," said Raphael, but he found that in spite of his best efforts he was beginning to laugh.

Valon glared at his two friends. "It's—hic—not funny!" he said indignantly, still struggling to free himself. "Let me _down_—hic—Alister!"

"Even after all that you still have the hiccups?" asked Alister.

"Raph—hic—help!" said Valon desperately, appealing to the blonde.

As amusing as it was to see the youngest of the trio dangling helplessly from the banister, Raphael figured that Valon had just about enough of being upside down. "Alister, he's learned his lesson. You can let him down now," said Raphael.

"Hic!"

Both Raphael and Valon blinked, staring at each other in disbelief before looking up at Alister.

The redhead had a mortified expression on his face, one that was replaced with a scowl of annoyance. "Great, now I've—hic—got them," he said irritably.

"Serves ya—hic—right!"

That particular comment got Valon a one-way ticket straight to the ground.

Raphael sighed, helping the teenager to his feet before looking at Alister. "All right you two. Come back in the family room—I have a sure-fire way to get rid of the hiccups."

Exchanging glances, the two younger bikers followed after their older friend curiously. The blonde led them to the sofa and made them sit down before digging in his pocket. He pulled out some pocket change and separated two coins from them, handing one to both Alister and Valon.

"All right. I want the pair of you to look real closely at these coins. Observe every detail, down to every scratch in the surface; in two minutes, I am going to take back the coins and you are going to tell me every detail you can remember," said Raphael. "The one who gets the most doesn't have to do laundry this week."

Valon and Alister both took the coins and stared down intently at them, already trying to memorize just how many things they could notice about it. They never noticed that Raphael had left the room, nor did they notice that the room had suddenly gone very quiet.

They did notice, however, that their hiccups had not gone down—if anything, they had intensified. Valon noticed this after about a minute of a half of doing nothing but staring at the coin and hiccupping every few seconds. But he was not about to lose a challenge to Alister, so he kept his eyes on the silver coin.

Abruptly, a loud explosive "POP!" sounded in his right ear.

Valon and Alister jumped, letting out identical cries of shock and whirling around to face Raphael, who had slipped behind them while they had been observing their coins. The blonde was grinning broadly, holding what had been a plastic grocery bag in his hands.

"What the 'eck, Raph! You gave me a 'eart attack!" said Valon indignantly, scowling at his older friend and placing his hands on his hips. Alister bore a similar startled look on his face, though it was quickly replaced by a trademark emotionless look.

Raphael calmly returned to his seat, once again beginning to watch the television set. "So I did," he said. "but it worked."

"What did?" asked Valon in bewilderment. "If you're talkin' 'bout scarin' the livin' daylights outta me 'n' Alister, then you're right!"

Raphael looked over at Alister and Valon, amusement twinkling in his eyes. "Both of you don't have the hiccups anymore, do you?"

"…Oh."


	5. Not A Typical Visit To The Zoo

_This is set when they were still in DOOM (though it is not their first mission, it is one of their earlier ones where they were just getting used to the idea of working together and staying undercover), and their ages vary from their current ones __; Raphael is 21, Valon's about 14, and Alister is 17._

_Inspired by YouTube, a sugar high, a conversation with my brother, and a visit to the zoo._

* * *

Valon felt his eye beginning to twitch.

He stared at the man across from him, looking as if he wanted nothing better than to pummel the khaki-clad figure into the ground. His cerulean eyes were filled with a dangerous light, and his fists were clenched to the point of drawing blood. Even his hair seemed to crackle with ill-suppressed anger and indignation.

"Valon, be reasonable. We are on a mission, and the last thing we need is for you to blow our cover," said Alister, noticing the figure at whom the Australian's wrath was directed at.

Raphael sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose wearily before looking at Alister. "I don't think that line of reasoning is going to work this time, Alister."

Alister exchanged glances with Raphael before looking back at Valon. "Do we need to be able to provide an alibi, in the event that Valon actually kills him?"

"That's certainly not helping, Alister. It might be an idea if we—_Valon, stay right where you are_," ordered the blonde sharply, noticing the way Valon was somehow getting closer to the man in khaki.

The teenager growled in indignation, returning to where his older friends were gathered. "Are we sure we can' jus' make 'im disappear right now? It'd be so easy to do," said the teen, his eyes never leaving the man in front of him.

"Now there's a great idea: we use the Orichalcos in front of all these people and let the world realize that there is a top-secret organization that steals the souls of the evil. Yeah, _really _great idea, Valon," said Alister flatly.

Raphael managed to snag Valon's arm right before the brunette tried to pummel Alister. "Not now. We can't call attention to ourselves at the moment, remember?" he growled, keeping Valon out of reach of Alister.

The three DOOM bikers were in the middle of an unnamed zoo on assignment from Dartz; they were looking around the area before they would return later that night. Gurimo was currently on the other side of the zoo, scouting out the escape route. The owner of this place was a kingpin, and he was using the zoo as an undercover front to smuggle out drugs and counterfeit money from it.

Normally, Dartz would have sent some of his more common field agents, not his trusted Swordsmen. But most of the others had been on other assignments, and it had been rather unavoidable to send the three of them. So here they were in Texas, and to avoid calling any attention to themselves (and partially because the Texas heat was absolutely miserable in their normal attire), they were clothed in regular street clothing.

Raphael was wearing a plain white t-shirt and a pair of jeans, Alister was wearing a black muscle-shirt that just barely covered his waist and also was in a pair of dark jeans, and Valon was dressed in a blue tank-top and khaki shorts. They had been able to slip under the radar thus far, and they were not about to start acting up now.

It was not hard to act as regular civilians—Valon had never been to a zoo before in his life, and neither had Alister. Raphael had been to a zoo when he was a child, but that had been long ago and the blonde barely remembered anything. The Australian's wonder at all the different animals had no need to be faked, and even Alister was interested in his surroundings as they traveled the length of the zoo.

They had been doing fine until they had hit the Australian area of the zoo—and had seen the supposed tour guide for it.

Valon hadn't had a problem with the outfit: the tan colored button up shirt and matching shorts, plus the hiking boots, was (according to Valon) all right. It was also fairly obvious that the man was one of the mafia don's henchmen in disguise; the tattoo on his arm matched the symbol of his boss's syndicate. But as long as they did nothing to draw the man's attention, there was still no problem.

It had been when a nearby woman had been asking the man for directions and the self-appointed guide had opened his mouth that Valon had lost it.

Raphael sighed now, pulling Valon in the direction away from the offending khaki wearing individual and almost having to drag the boy away from the exhibit entrance. "Let it go, Valon."

""m not gonna bloody let it go, that bloke's got no business doin' that! 'e's—'e's—'e's _insultin'_ me!"

Alister, who had followed after them, raised an eyebrow. "Valon, I highly doubt that he knows that. Besides, I don't see the reason why this is bothering you so much."

Valon wrenched his arm free of Raphael's grip and turned so he was facing Alister fully. "I'll tell ya wha's so bloomin' off 'bout it," he snarled, his accent thickening noticeably. "That bloke's accent is the _fakest_ thing since plastic surgery!"

The older bikers blinked, looked at each other in bemusement before they directed their attention at the youngest member of the trio. Valon continued on with his rant, keeping his voice down enough to just barely avoid attracting any attention.

"Not on'y that, but 'e obviously stinks a' it! Why is 'e feelin' obligated to slaughter our 'earin' with that disgrace o' an imitation? I don' mind people talkin' like me, but 'e could at least _try_ to sound like 'e's from Australia!"

"I don't think it's helping him any that his Southern accent is overpowering his attempt," said Alister. "And at any rate, Valon, he's being probably paid to do it by his boss; it doesn't seem like he's an employee and is only here because he put himself there. It shouldn't be bothering you so much, and if it is you can just take his soul later when we come back."

"But those poor ankle-biter's are growin' up, thinkin' we Aussies sound like that! They probably think every Australian fella walks around goin' 'Blimey, mate, put some shrimp on the ba-bie,'" said Valon angrily.

The redhead continued to look amused, digging in his pocket for a breath mint. "Luckily for both me and Raphael neither of us are Australian, so we don't have to feel so insulted," he said with a rather smug tone of voice.

At that point however, they heard footsteps behind them and the three of them turned in time to see the very object of conversation hurrying toward them. Inwardly, Raphael groaned and hoped fervently that the brunette would check his temper and not bother the man.

"'Alo, chums," greeted the man who (in all three's opinion) seemed to be far too chipper and happy. His voice twanged with the combination of a rather noticeable drawl, which could possibly be natural to Texas (though it was hard to tell), and what could be tentatively identified as an Australian accent.

The man was actually quite annoying to listen to.

"See, ah couldn' 'elp bot notice tha' the lovely sheila 'ere," said the man, gesturing to Alister and holding out a white cloth, "dropped 'er 'anky, an' I wanted t' make sure tha' she got it back," he finished, directing a wink at the redhead. "She's a righ' pretty one, an' ah wouldn' wanna see 'er cry when she finds 'er 'anky gone."

Alister's previously amused expression vanished.

Valon, who had been about to tell the other man in a not-so-nice way to leave, stopped and his eyes widened in horror; though he did many things to annoy his older teammate, there was an imaginary line that he never crossed that this man just did. He instantly ducked behind Raphael, out of the redhead's line of sight. Even Raphael suddenly looked distinctly uneasy, despite the fact he was taller and stronger than the red-haired man beside him.

In the first place, Alister didn't _have_ a handkerchief on him. He preferred tissues ("Why would I want to stuff a snot-filled rag back in my pocket?") as opposed to an actual cloth; the only reason he would ever carry one was for his sunglasses. The man they had been talking to had supplied his own handkerchief.

But there was a much bigger issue here.

There's a list somewhere in the world that has things on it you _just don't do._ There is no telling how many items are on that list, mainly because every day millions of things are added to it. One man's stupidity is another man's way to avoid that stupidity.

Calling Alister a girl and then flirting with him is one of those things that you just don't do.

…Raphael later reflected that it was lucky that everyone's attention had suddenly and mysteriously been on the animals and not on the zookeeper when the man got punched in the jaw and then kicked in the stomach by an irate Alister.

"When we come back here tonight, he's the first to go," said the angry teen between clenched teeth, stalking away from the dazed looking employee on the ground. Valon nodded in agreement, following after Alister but not before purposely stomping on the prone man.

Raphael felt something of pity as he followed after the two of his younger teammates, looking around him to make doubly sure that no one had seen what had just happened. He could only hope that the hapless employee would have enough common sense to stay away from the zoo tonight.

On the other hand, a part of Raphael was glad that the annoyingly loud voice was silenced.

* * *

Inside the DOOM temple Dartz shook his head in resignation and let out a heavy sigh. "One of these times, I am not going to intervene and the three of them can just learn how to deal with whatever situation they get into," he said tiredly.


	6. How to Survive Horror Films

_This has absolutely nothing to do with my poll - the idea came from nowhere, I promise. _

_Also, I don't watch horror films all that often. They scare me too much. The following is derived from what I hear about them, not because I watch them._

* * *

**Valon's Survival Guide To All Horror films**

Look, ladies and gents, thissun is plain common sense: DON'T GO ANYWHERE ALONE. All o' us watchin' can totally call it—you wander off by yourself, you're as good as dead, mate.

With tha' bein' said, use the buddy system. Sure, the monster/psycho murderer/aliens aren' gonna let you alone just 'cause you 'ave a buddy, but 'ey. Jus' throw your buddy to the monster and run for it (NOTE: It might be a wise idea to travel with someone you don't like; sacrificin' your real chums is a no-no)

Now, you see that brightly glowin' light goin' through the trees? Hear that strange sound in the bushes? WALK IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION. Just 'cause you see or hear somethin', it doesn' obligate ya to go see what it is—most likely, whatever is making that light/sound will end up killin' ya.

Do the world a favor. Stay outta the cemetery at midnight, and please don' disturb any o' the mummies in Egypt. The undead can be downright nasty when they're woken up from a sound sleep.

Your car breaks down in the middle o' nowhere durin' the night? Stay in the car—do NOT go wanderin' through the woods.

Any building with either 'haunted' in its name or 'avin' 'istory with dark deeds or summat like it is to be avoided at all costs. While we're at it, please don't throw rocks through the windows of a 'aunted 'ouse—that's just askin' f'r trouble.

So you're travelin' in a group, huh? You 'ave no worries 'bout the buddy system then—but avoid travelin' in either the very front or the very back o' your group. The monster/alien/psycho murderer also goes for the poor saps in either of those places.

Even if you're the funniest guy in the world, act all serious 'n' stuff. The comedian always gets it first…

…unless you are a lovestruck couple tryin' t' make out in the back o' their car…

…or if you are a sheila tryin' t' take a shower ALONE at NIGHT.

If you're the lovestruck couple I mentioned, save it for later. Please, spare our eyes and save your lives—the bad guy does not care what you are doin' at that moment, it's still gonna kill ya anyway.

As f'r showerin' alone at night…actually, does 'at even need a reason why you shouldn' do that? Remember the buddy system.

Leave the mystery solvin' t' that dog and 'is hippie friends. Scoobs 'as more experience than you, mate.

Try your hardest not to tempt fate. 'Final Destination' is a great example of that—what kinda loony questions 'is luck after escapin' from bein' blown up and electrocuted? Drop it, kid, and move on!

If there is someone in your group that acts strange, give 'em a Snickers bar and be nice to them—their mums can turn into right dangerous mass murderers with creepy masks to boot.

The firs' time you see any kinda animal actin' up (birds, dogs, cats, sheep even), RUN FOR THE HILLS AND DON'T LOOK BACK. SERIOUSLY.

Zombies 'r' not as easy to kill as everyone thinks they are—even if they are on fire, they can still eatcha alive. Best bet is t' shoot 'em with that double gauge shotgun o' yours. If you don't 'ave a shotgun…hope you're fast 'n' in shape.

Avoid tickin' off the ghosts. They c'n possess, they c'n make things move, and they c'n get right cranky right quick.

Please, just for your own safety, don' mess with chemicals. You never know if you're gonna set off a chain reaction leadin' to the Apocalypse or to the next Dawn of the Dead.

Avoid the followin' stereotypes: Jocks, Geeks, Cheerleaders, Comedians (I don't count), Drama Queens, Jerks, and the Lovestruck couple. Instead, stick with your average Joe or Jane—chances are they'll get through everythin' all right.

Invest 'eavily in garlic, crosses, silver bullets, 'oly water, 'oly hand grenades (if there're such things) and reaffirm things with the Man Upstairs.

Bugs are evil.

As are snakes and sharks.

If you are takin' a date to the prom, take 'em to the prom. Don't set 'em up f'r a fall; people these days get really ticked easily.

If you are in an unfamiliar place (i.e. stranded in a hotel 'cause of a storm), do not snoop around the joint and do not eat/drink anything if you can help it. Chances are that the grub's poisoned or summat.

Creepy children should jus' be avoided on principle.

Dark, creepy lookin' places also should be avoided. Y'never know wha's livin' in there.

Don't set people on fire and make 'em mad enough to haunt your dreams. Also avoid hangin' around a butcher if your car breaks down, and never pick up 'itch-'ikers.

DO NOT USE OUIJA BOARDS. EVER.

If you all 'r' readin' this and you understand the references, y'need to stop watchin' horror films and go watch somethin' funny. You blokes need _lives_.


	7. Baby Book Special: Alister

_Remember my poll due date? __I lied. Expect the unexpected, baby._

_Thanks to all who voted, and the winner by a landslide was "BABIES! WHO WANTS TO SEE THEM AS BABIES?"_

_A note about the parents: I have no idea where Alister is from, seeing how as the anime left that part conveniently out. The family is wherever you want them to be—I suspect Scotland, but then I have no idea how to write a Scottish accent._

* * *

"Come on, Alister! You can do it!" encouraged the red-haired woman eagerly, holding her arms out to her violently swaying son.

The seven month old blinked over at her, continuing to wobble as he stood in place, before deciding that walking was too much effort and he plopped back onto the ground with a muffled _thump_. "Bwah!" he announced cheerfully.

Jonathan Gayle eyed where his wife was sitting on the floor with mild amusement. "Give it up, dear heart. Alister will walk when he feels like it," he said, returning to the crossword he was devoting his time to with a faint smile on his lips.

Rosalie Gayle looked over at him and sat herself on the floor near Alister, folding her arms across her chest. "I know that he'll be walking soon enough—Lord knows how often I have to chase him around the house when he's crawling," she said. "But it would be nice if he learned how to walk…"

"Look at it this way—you'll still be able to hold him in your lap for a while yet," said Jonathan thoughtfully as he stood up. He briefly went to where his son sat on the floor, blocks scattered around him, and knelt down to ruffle his son's hair. The baby giggled, returning to stacking the wooden toys in a pattern that made sense to only his mind.

Rosalie looked thoughtfully at Alister as well. "Yes…I never really thought of that," she remarked, smiling as the child abandoned the building blocks and crawled to her. She picked him up and set him on her lap before sighing, her soft gray eyes troubled. "I do wonder though if he'll be all right when we go to the party," she said.

Alister cooed, reaching up to play with his mother's earrings; the red-haired woman easily intercepted his small hand and allowed him to play with her fingers absently, looking over at her husband.

This was the first party they had gone to since Alister was born, and the Gayles obviously could not bring him to it. It would be Alister's first evening alone without either of his parents, and Rosalie was obviously worrying about it. She had read that section in the baby book about separation anxiety and feared that her young son might be one of those extreme cases.

Jonathan shook his head, pecking his wife on the cheek. "It'll be fine, Rosalie. He'll be with your mother all evening. She knows what to do in case of an emergency. Besides, our Alister is a well-behaved boy. We've left him alone in the playpen before, and he never raised a fuss."

"I suppose…" she said, her face troubled.

"Tell you what—why don't you let me take him and you can go get yourself ready? I'm about as ready as I'm going to get," said Jonathan, returning to the sofa chair he had been previously sitting in and held out his arms for Alister.

Rosalie smiled, carefully depositing Alister on her husband's lap. As she left, she called over her shoulder, "Could you try to teach him how to talk? I've been trying to get him to call us 'Mama' or 'Papa'."

Jonathan shrugged, glancing down at his son—who had decided that his toes were quite entertaining and was currently trying to fit his foot in his mouth—in amusement. "All right, young man," he announced, sitting Alister up properly on his lap. "We've got some work to do."

Alister blinked, looking up at his father curiously.

It suddenly occurred to Jonathan that he had no idea of just how he was supposed to teach the baby to talk. After a moment of hesitation, he gently caught his son's hand in his own and placed it on his chest. "Papa," he said.

Alister blinked again, actually tilting his head and his tiny brow furrowing in thought. "Ba?" he finally asked.

"No…_P_a_p_a. Pah," Jonathan replied, emphasizing the 'p' sound and feeling utterly ridiculous.

"Bwah!" giggled Alister, tugging on his father's shirt collar. He'd spotted a shiny object and wanted to see what it was.

"No you don't, kiddo. You can't have my lapel pin," said Jonathan, realizing what Alister wanted and gently guiding the curious baby's hand away from it. "Come on then, son. Let's hear it: Pah."

"Ba-bee bwaah," gurgled his son cheerfully.

The tawny haired man sighed. "You're close, son, but so far," he said, noting Alister's cheerfully oblivious look. Maybe if he made it into a game…

He released his child's hand and placed both of his own large hands over his face. The baby squealed in delight and crowed, "Bee bah!"

"Yes, peek-a-boo," confirmed his father with a smile. Alister had learned the sounds he currently made from this game; maybe the same would occur if he did it again. "Where's the baby…? Pah!" he cried, parting his hands.

Alister let out a bubbling laugh, his eyes twinkling. Jonathan ducked back behind his hands and said, "Where's Alister…? I can't seem to find him…Pah!" he cried again, this time making a face.

His son giggled madly, nearly falling over from laughter. "Pah! Pah!" he squealed, his tiny hands clapping together.

Jonathan felt a grin creep onto his face. He pointed to himself and said hopefully, "Papa."

Alister looked over at him before raising his hands over his face. "Bee bah!"

The older man sighed in resignation. "All right, Alister, you win—for now. But mark my words, you will call me Papa," he declared, ruffling the baby's vibrantly red hair.

A stifled giggle made Jonathan look at the entryway to the room. Much to his surprise, Rosalie was standing in the doorway, trying her hardest to not burst out laughing. Even more to his chagrin, she had not changed at all—she'd been standing there the whole time. When his wife saw that she had been spotted, she began to laugh.

"I'm sorry, Jonathan," she gasped, trying her hardest to reign in her laughter. "But you looked so silly playing peek-a-boo…! And then you…oh, that _face_ you made! I can't believe my stoic and serious husband was capable of such a face!"

Jonathan looked down at his son with an unreadable expression before carefully setting him on the floor. "Alister, stay here a moment. I have to go make your mother pay for her grievous sin—she has shamed me, and I must reclaim my honor."

With that, he crossed the room in three swift strides and caught his wife in his arms, beginning to tickle her mercilessly. Rosalie screamed, dropping to the floor and collapsing in laughter. "J-Jonathan, don't! You know I'm ticklish!" she gasped, squirming away and trying her hardest to catch her breath.

"The lady has shamed me!" cried Jonathan gallantly, continuing to tickle her. He was not hurting her at all—on the contrary, he was as gentle with her as he was with their child.

And speaking of which…

Alister was clapping his hands loudly, giggling at the sight of his mother lying on the floor; her laughter was contagious. He knew what it was like to get tickled—his mother did that to him quite frequently, and it amused the baby greatly to see that (finally) she was being tickled.

He was so amused in fact, that he began to make some new sounds he'd heard recently.

"Pah-pah! Ma-ma!" he squealed in delight, hitting the ground with his hands.

At first, Jonathan and Rosalie were too caught up in their game to notice it, but as Alister's bubbly voice grew in volume, they finally recognized what was being said.

Rosalie practically flew to her child and scooped him affectionately into her arms. "Oh…! He said it, he said it, he _said _it!" she cried, sitting the boy on her lap and planting an kiss on the top of his head. "Say Mama, Alister!"

Alister looked up at her, still giggling, but said nothing.

"I think he needs a little incentive," said Jonathan, beginning to tickle Alister as well.

The child's pealing laughter was contagious, and both Jonathan and Rosalie also began to laugh along with him. In between the baby's gasping laughs they could hear him saying over and over again, "Pah-pah! Ma-ma!"

At last, Jonathan eased up and allowed both his wife and son to catch their breath. Rosalie set Alister carefully on the floor beside her before flopping onto its surface.

She looked up at him from the floor on which she lay, smiling warmly up at Jonathan and her face flushed from laughing. Her eyes were alight with joy, and he smiled back down at her.

Alister cooed, reaching for his parents from where he sat. "Pah-Pah…Ma-ma," he said cheerfully.

The two adults smiled at him, and Rosalie sat up to once again sit Alister on her lap. "That would be us," she said softly.


	8. Kodak Moment

_Inspired by an incident that happened when me and my two younger brothers were...well, younger than we are now._

* * *

He came awake suddenly in the darkness of his bedroom.

At first, he wasn't really sure what had woken him up in the first place; the ten year old boy was not really sure of anything at that moment, to be precise. He was not the world's greatest morning person to begin with, and if that clock was telling him right then this was definitely way too early to be thinking about anything. The first few moments of waking up were spent rubbing at ice blue eyes and trying desperately to figure out what had happened.

A growling, rumbling sound came from outside his window, followed by a flash of light that briefly flickered through the curtains and lit his bedroom up. He blinked at the sudden noise, realizing with a sleepy frown that there was a thunderstorm outside.

As he woke up more, Raphael also realized that the storm wasn't the only thing that had woken him up. Someone was tugging on his pajama sleeve.

Raphael's sleep filled gaze went to his left, where the tugging was coming from. Frowning a bit, he propped himself onto his elbows and peered into the darkness. The next round of lightning revealed a small face framed by long blonde hair, a pair of blue eyes watching him anxiously. "Sonia?" he asked groggily.

"Elder Brother, I know that I'm supposed to be asleep," said the six year old girl in a tearful tone, clutching at the material of her nightgown and twisting it nervously. "But it's scary outside and I was wondering if you would let me—"

In the next second, a particularly loud thunderclap went off and the little girl winced. She began to tremble, looking dangerously close to bursting into tears. Raphael instantly was wide awake—it didn't matter how late at night it was, Sonia was his little sister. Without further hesitation, he scooted over in the bed and said comfortingly, "Of course you can stay here, Sonia."

The little girl needed no second telling—she had instantly slipped under the covers and was snuggling against her elder brother's side within seconds. Another thunderclap sounded, and she burrowed deeper under the coverlet and closer to Raphael.

"Sonia, I kind of need to breathe," said Raphael jokingly, though his voice was a little strained—Sonia had a death grip around his chest currently.

Her grip loosened, but she continued to shake beside him as the storm raged outside of her brother's window. Raphael inwardly groaned—it seemed like the thunderstorm had chosen to escalate at that moment, and it was unlikely that he would be able to go to sleep for a while yet.

To his surprise, however, Sonia was soon fast asleep once more; it seemed that the thought of her older brother being in her immediate vicinity was reassuring enough to go back to sleep. Raphael looked down at the top of her head (he would have shifted, but he didn't want to disturb his sister) and gave a sleepy smile before closing his eyes once again.

It seemed that he had just finally reached that point of falling totally asleep once more when he felt a familiar tugging sensation on his blanket, this time coming from the right side. Repressing a groan, Raphael opened one of his eyes wearily to see who it was tugging on him this time.

No one was immediately visible.

Blinking back the sleep, Raphael sat up (taking the utmost care to not disturb his slumbering sister) and peered over the edge of the bed. He could barely make out a small form that was looking up at him with hazel eyes.

"Waphie, i's scawy ow'side," said three year old Julien solemnly. "I stay hewe?"

"Sure, sure," said Raphael, yawning widely. "Come on, Julien."

The three year old hopped to the edge of the bed and, after a few failed attempts to get on the mattress Raphael caught the back of Julien's night shirt and carefully hauled him up onto the bed. The little boy, like Sonia, instantly was under the covers and burrowing close to his right side; also like his sister, the small boy was almost instantly asleep. Raphael shook his head, nonetheless smiling at his siblings. He tiredly shut his eyes once again, wanting to do nothing more than mimic his brother and sister.

A particularly loud thunderclap from outside, however, ended whatever hope he had for going back to sleep.

Sonia awoke with a startled gasp, and Julien promptly began to cry softly into Raphael's pajama top. Both of the younger Knightons were awake, and Raphael inwardly groaned. He was never going to go back to sleep at this rate. Rubbing first Sonia's back then Julien's comfortingly, he sat up straighter in the bed and eyed the window. If he had any hope of once more returning to sleep, he needed to reassure his siblings that everything was all right.

"Must you be so loud?" he inquired, directing his question at the window. He could feel Sonia's and Julien's eyes on him, but he didn't look away from the window.

"Who talkin' to, Waphie?" asked Julien curiously, wiping his eyes and looking up at Raphael.

"The thunderstorm outside," replied the eldest child. "I was going to see if it would be so kind as to let us sleep."

Another loud thunderclap rang out, and his siblings flinched and huddled closer to their elder brother. Raphael, however, continued to watch the flickering light outside the glass. "Really now," he said loudly, folding his arms. "You're being quite loud for no particular reason. I know that you stubbed your toe and all, but it's way past our bedtimes and we'd appreciate it if you went somewhere else."

Sonia giggled into her hands. "Is that what happened, Elder Brother? How did the storm stub its toe?"

Raphael thought fast—well, as fast as his brain could when it was still on snooze. "Actually, there's a man in the clouds who is responsible for all the rain that falls," he said. "Whenever that man hurts himself, he gets upset and as a result we get thunderstorms."

"He sound ang'y," said Julien, whimpering as a very loud thunderclap sounded off over head.

Raphael debated for a moment, decided that what he had in mind was the only way to comfort his siblings, and slipped off the mattress.

"Elder Brother, what are you doing?" asked Sonia fearfully, noticing as Raphael padded over to the window and began fiddling with the window latch.

"He obviously can't hear me from up there," said Raphael absently as he opened the window; thankfully, the wind was blowing the rain away from him, so Raphael had no worries about being soaked. Poking his head out far enough to avoid getting wet, he looked up and said loudly, "Would you PLEASE knock it off? We're TRYING to sleep!"

From behind him, he heard Sonia's and Julien's muffled giggles and he purposely shut the window, returning to the bed. "There," he said simply. "That should put him in his place."

Much to Raphael's surprise, he could actually hear the rain dying down and the thunder was growing more distant as the storm moved away. He didn't have much time to dwell on that fact, however, because both of his siblings had pounced on him and were hugging him tightly. "You made the storm leave!" Sonia said happily. "Thank you, Elder Brother!"

"No mo' sto'm," crowed Julien ecstatically.

"Yes, I did, didn't I? Now, we should probably go back to sleep, since the storm is gone," said Raphael, stifling a yawn. He wanted nothing more than to fall asleep and not wake up for a long while yet. The three children clambered back onto the bed and got under the covers once more.

This time, there were no interruptions.

* * *

"Robert, have you seen either Sonia or Julien?" asked Lilith worriedly. "They aren't in their bedrooms, and I haven't seen them up or around the house all morning."

The brunette man looked up at his blonde-haired wife and folded the newspaper he had been reading. "Actually, yes I have," he said in amusement, standing up. "Follow me, my dear."

Baffled, Lilith followed her husband up the stairs and to a closed door. "Raphael's room?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at her husband.

Robert merely smiled in reply, placing a warning finger on his lips as he softly opened the door and tiptoed inside. Lilith, who was now curious, followed after him. He went to the bed, and after she got there Lilith fought not to say anything.

The two missing children in question were curled up near their elder brother, fast asleep. Sonia was curled up on her left side, her long flowing blonde hair splayed out across the pillow. Julien was on the right, his fists lightly gripping Raphael's pajama top. The eldest of the three was in the middle, his arms wrapped around Sonia's and Julien's sleeping forms. All three children bore peaceful looks on their faces.

Motioning for Lilith to follow him, Robert left the room as quietly as he had entered. After sparing one last glance at them, the Frenchwoman followed her husband out. A suspicion about just what had driven Sonia and Julien to Raphael's room was already in mind, and the moment she was outside of the room she asked, "Was there a storm last night?"

"Yes, and a rather loud one, too," said Robert. "It lasted for quite a while…it's no wonder those three are still asleep."

"Poor little dears," said Lilith. "And poor Raphael. He was probably up with them for most of the night."

"To be honest, I don't think he minded any—comfort during thunderstorms generally fall under the big brother jurisdiction," said Robert thoughtfully. After a moment, he made a beeline for the bedroom he and Lilith shared.

"Robert, where are you going?" asked Lilith, following after him.

The taller brunette man turned to regard his petite wife playfully. "I do believe that what we just saw is what the Americans term as a 'Kodak moment.'"


	9. Watch What You Shoot

_Inspired by...well, the random jumble of scattered thoughts that are my mind. Here is the humor-shot I promised you!_

_Set once again during DOOM, same ages as before :D_

* * *

"Do I even want to know what you're up to now?" asked Raphael, raising an eyebrow.

Valon was crouched behind on overstuffed armchair in the living area of the temple, a sofa pillow tied to the top of his fluffy hair. In the teen's hands was very lethal looking paintball gun, and the trademark mischievous grin was on the boy's face.

"'m out t' get Alister, mate," said Valon, a light scowl appearing on his face. "The bloke broke m' favorite pair of goggles!"

"…So you're going to shoot him with a paintball gun?"

"O' course! It'll teach 'im not to mess with my goggles!"

"Valon, that was an accident. The only reason he stepped on them was because you left them out on the ground."

"He shoulda watched where 'e was goin'!" snapped Valon, then stopped as the sound of approaching footsteps came down the corridor. Standing up abruptly, he grabbed Raphael's upper arm and with surprising strength hauled the surprised man down behind the couch with him. The teen peered out intently from the hiding place, then slumped in disappointment.

"May I ask why you've involved me with this?" asked Raphael resignedly.

"'Cause if you leave, I know you'll go warn Alister not to come in 'ere. And we both know for a fact 'e comes in 'ere every day to watch those crime scene programs. Hence my camo," said Valon, gesturing to the pillow on top of his head.

"Yeah. Alister will be thrown off by the pillow tied to your head. It looks totally natural," said Raphael, his face deadpanning.

Valon scowled again, lightly cuffing Raphael's shoulder. "At least I blend in."

"At least Alister won't be coming after me in retaliation because I'm not the one with the paintball gun."

"…Murder's illegal. It'll be fine."

"Alister isn't going to murder you, but he will definitely be testing your mortality," said Raphael, rising to his feet. "I won't warn Alister, but you're going to have to find your own hiding place."

With those parting words, Raphael went to the bookshelf, picked up a novel (which happened to be _To Kill A Mockingbird_) and left the room. It had been his original intention to get the book, but now he had a new goal in mind: to distance himself from that particular room and to read his book in relative peace.

Because nothing was more dangerous than an angry Alister.

* * *

"Raph, you gotta 'elp me!"

The blonde jumped, looking up from his book as a familiar Australian teenager rushed into his bedroom and dove under the mattress. Blinking a few times to make sure he wasn't hallucinating, Raphael bent over the side of the bed and grabbed Valon's visible ankle, tugging hard on it to pull the boy out from under the bed.

"I thought I told you I wasn't going to hide you. You brought Alister's wrath down on yourself," said Raphael calmly, returning to his book. In the next second, he frowned as the book was yanked from his hands. "Valon, give me back my book."

"Raph, y-ya don' unnerstan'. It's not Alister 'm hidin' from," said Valon, his face pale.

"…Then what is it you are hiding from, exactly?"

At that point, Alister poked his head into the room. He had voluntarily left the comfort of his bedroom to get some water, and he had noticed the way Valon had fled into the blonde's room. Whenever the Australian brunette did something like that, it meant that something had happened.

And Alister was mildly curious.

"Yes, Valon. Enlighten us," he said now, slipping into the room. "What exactly happened?"

"Well…I was sittin' there 'n the livin' room, y'know, waitin' f'r ya to mosey on in like 'e normally does," said Valon, gesturing vaguely toward Alister and looking everywhere but at the two older bikers.

"Hold on. Why were you—?"

"He was going to shoot you with a paintball gun to avenge his broken goggles," said Raphael. Alister opened his mouth, no doubt to voice his indignation, when Valon resumed talking.

"Raph's right, chum. Anyway, I got sleepy, and I started noddin' off when I 'eard someone comin' into the room. Naturally, I start shootin' first, 'cause I think i's Alister."

The eldest of the trio's frown deepened, and he suddenly became uneasy. "I know this isn't exactly fair to him, but _please _tell me that it was Alister that walked through that door."

The Australian shook his head miserably.

"Obviously not, Raphael," said Alister, gesturing to himself. "I'm not exactly covered in paint, now am I? Besides, I have been in my room all day. My program got pushed back a couple of hours because there's a wrestling match on that channel that's broadcasting for a few hours."

Raphael felt the beginnings of dread clench in the bottom of his stomach. "Was it Gurimo?" he asked, hoping beyond hope that was the case. The blonde didn't exactly like the monocle wearing man, and he half-hoped that Valon had pegged him with the paintball gun.

Valon shook his head again, the movement barely noticeable.

Alister's expression went from mildy annoyed to open horror. "Valon, you didn't…" he said, unable to voice the rest of the thought dangling in the tense air. "Please tell me you didn't, and that if you did that you missed."

Valon looked up at them, his eyes speaking the answer they didn't want to hear.

"Valon…how did you…?" said Raphael, unable to say anything else.

"I told ya, fellas—I jus' didn' see 'im until it was too late. And by then, I'd…well…uh, I'd…"

Valon mimicked shooting at an imaginary figure. Raphael noticed that Valon's finger was pointing far too low for it to have hit his target's face, and he blanched. "Where exactly," he began slowly, his tone filled with dread, "did you hit him?"

The Australian looked at them expectantly, and the two of them exchanged horrified expressions.

"Oh no…"

At that point, they heard very slow, labored footsteps making their way down the hall coming from the open doorway and Valon looked at them helplessly. "You gotta 'elp me, fellas," he said pleadingly, terror openly on his face.

"What? Why?" asked Alister, uncharacteristic alarm on his own face. "Why should we? You're the one who shot him. Besides, he didn't kill you for the Kool-Aid incident."

"Tha's 'cause he needs us alive, mate. This's enough f'r 'im to take m' soul! Please, fellas, you gotta 'elp me!"

Raphael had less than ten seconds to think of a way to save the youngest member of the trio before he lost his soul—and he was incapable of blatantly telling a lie.

Alister was way ahead of Raphael, however.

He grabbed the boy, quickly crossing the room and shoving him into the blonde's closet. "Stay there," he instructed, shutting the door behind him as he made his way back to where he had been standing.

Just as Alister had returned to the spot, an aquamarine-haired figure appeared in the door. Bright orange paint was splattered liberally across the man's face and clothes—especially on his pants. "Have either of you…have either of you seen Valon?" asked the man, slightly breathless but looking absolutely furious.

"No we haven't, Master Dartz," said Alister smoothly, shooting Raphael a warning look to stay silent. "I was in here to ask Raphael about something I read. Why, has something happened?"

"When you find him…tell him I wish to see him…_at once_," said Dartz, turning in the doorway to hobble down the hall.

Raphael waited until Dartz's footsteps had faded away from their hearing before he walked to the closet and opened the door. "It might be in your best interest to stay here for a while," he said.

"A while? Valon, you may have to spend the rest of your natural life living in that closet," said Alister.

Valon groaned in misery. "How long d'ya reckon 'e's gonna be mad at me?"

"…Do you really want the answer to that?"


	10. Silence

He absolutely _hated_ it.

It was one thing when Raphael got sick, and it was another thing entirely when Alister himself was ill; whenever the blonde was feeling under the weather there was respectful silence in the home, and when the stoic redhead was sick…actually, the last time Alister had gotten sick had been in DOOM, and he barely remembered that occasion at all.

But this wasn't DOOM. This was the here and now.

And now, the loudest and youngest member of their group was sick and Alister hated it with a passion.

It had seemed only like yesterday when the brunette had come home from riding his motorcycle in the rain and had started coughing. The Australian had brushed off his older friend's concerns with a grin, though he had gone to bed much earlier than normal after changing out of his soaking wet clothes. "I've got me a cast-iron invincibility system, fellas," he had proclaimed with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

That had been three days ago, before Valon's cough had turned into a rather debilitating cold.

Since then, the normally energetic boy could barely lift his head from where it hid underneath the coversheet (they'd removed the quilt to prevent the teen's fever from spiking) and his voice, when he had enough energy to speak, came out as a weak and rather pathetic croak.

The cold also resulted in an uncharacteristic loss of appetite— Valon couldn't swallow anything, not even liquids, without wincing in pain. He could barely take the medicine that was supposed to be helping him.

But what bothered Alister the most was the silence.

When Raphael left for work, Valon was always ambling around the house looking for something to do. Sometimes Alister could hear the boy randomly speaking aloud to the cat—something Valon fervently denied doing—as he wandered. Most of the time, however, the Australian would 'grace Alister with his presence' (cough-_annoy_-cough-cough). Usually, when Alister wasn't at his job or wandering randomly, he would sit in the trio's family room reading a book or watching TV. Nothing interesting, really.

Yet Valon always stayed with him anyway.

Alister sat at the kitchen table, already waiting with the customary cup of coffee for Raphael. He doubted, though, that the blonde needed it. Except to deliver medicine to Valon, the other two bikers had avoided staying in the teen's bedroom longer than necessary—the last thing anyone needed was for both of them to get ill.

But Alister had a vague suspicion that the blonde had stayed up with Valon last night.

Footsteps in the hall alerted Alister to the elder biker's presence, and he asked, "How's he doing?"

Raphael stepped into the room, accepting the cup of coffee gratefully. "His fever's down again," he said wearily. Alister frowned—apparently, Valon's fever had spiked last night. It had never gone higher than one hundred and two, mainly because neither Alister nor Raphael would let it. Nonetheless, the redhead found himself wishing that the fever would let the Australian go already.

Raphael rubbed at his eyes, glancing at the clock. "I really don't want to go to work right now," he said tiredly.

"Lucky thing today's Friday, right?" said Alister, allowing a rare tone of encouragement to slip into his voice.

"Yeah," said Raphael, running a hand through his cropped hair. After a moment, he looked over at Alister and asked, "Do you mind keeping an ear out for him today? I'll try to get back early, since it's Friday."

"Of course," said Alister simply. "I'm not going anywhere."

Raphael departed after a few minutes, leaving Alister alone at the table. With a sigh, the redhead picked up the novel he had been reading and went into the living room. Misa meowed, hopping up on Alister's lap once he had sat down and placing her paws on his chest; it was as if she was asking, "Where's Valon? He's supposed to be here too!"

Alister gently shoved the cat off of him. Mainly to avoid aggravating Valon's cough, they kept the boy's door shut to keep Misa out of the room. "Sorry," he said apologetically to the kitten. "Valon's not feeling too good at the moment."

At that moment, the redhead would have given anything to have Valon come bouncing down the stairs.

* * *

Alister growled, changing the channel on the television set.

The redhead had ended up finishing his book, and rather than get a new novel he had decided to turn on the television for a bit.

There was ABSOLUTELY nothing on.

If it wasn't the news, it was some dumb soap opera or sitcom that held no interest to the red-haired man; there had been a program on Animal Planet, but it was so stupid Alister had changed the channel out of disgust. It had involved a child getting dangerously ill from a black widow bite and the panicked parents waiting a week to administer a cure—one they had obtained by smuggling an illegal and experimental anti-venom in from Mexico.

…needless to say, Alister was annoyed. And bored.

And the house was eerily quiet…

That tore it.

Muttering, he rose to his feet and turned off the television. Heading to the nearby bookshelf, he grabbed the first book that he could find that was interesting and then made a beeline for the stairwell. "Come on, Misa," he said, already at the landing.

The kitten followed after him, meowing with delight as a certain closed door was opened and remained open. Hurriedly, she followed after the man into the room, where Alister was already sitting down in a chair positioned by the teen's bed.

Meowing softly so as to not disturb the sick teenager (because even cats know when someone is sick), the feline gently hopped onto the mattress and padded carefully across the covers to the slightly wheezing teen. She nuzzled the teen's face comfortingly, meowing again.

Alister brushed a hand under Valon's fluffy bangs and noticed with some relief that today the boy's forehead was only moderately warm. That was a good omen—it meant that the fever was close to breaking.

A pair of clouded blue eyes opened dazedly, blinking rapidly to stare at the cat in confusion. "Misa…?" croaked Valon, reaching out to pet her softly. The kitten purred, rubbing herself against his arm before curling up near his hand and closing her eyes contentedly. The boy gave something that could be termed as a smile before his eyes closed again and he was once more asleep.

Alister was almost half tempted to wake Valon up once again and start an argument with him, just to prove to himself that the boy was truly all right, but squashed that urge; Valon had been limiting what few conversations he'd had over the course of the past few days to five words, because he simply could not say more.

Instead, Alister settled down to read his book.


	11. Baby Book Special: Raphael

_While out and about I saw a baby who had static hair from wearing a cap—and I kid you not, the baby had blonde hair and blue eyes—and the way it stuck up looked kinda like Raphael's hairstyle _

_Bear in mind that Raphael's mommy has a (soft) French accent, and Raphael's papa's accent is also not that noticeable._

_Blame this story on the baby…though I find that impossible to do, because babies are cute. Be prepared for warm and fluffy overload._

* * *

Robert Knighton marveled at his firstborn son.

In the first instance, he was going to be the only child they would have that was not named after one of their relatives; Lilith had strongly admired the often unmentioned archangel Raphael, and this had allowed her to give that name to their son. His beautiful wife had not explained how she had known that she was having a boy—she just did, in that sixth sense expectant mothers seemed to possess.

Their next child (if Robert had his way) was going to be named after some relative in their family, but their first one was the sole exception. Lilith had practically begged for their child to be named Raphael, though it was unnecessary; Robert had not one problem with that name, because for some inexplicable reason it seemed to fit.

The delivery had actually been rather quick and painless, though things had gotten dicey toward the last fifteen minutes. Then he had been ushered from the room by a flustered nurse and forced to wait in the room while his wife's screams faintly filtered through the door. He was extremely irritated by that fact, but all was forgiven when the same nurse let him back into the room ten minutes later with a broad smile on her face.

Robert had never thought that his wife could be so beautiful—her wavy blonde hair framed her face like a perfect halo, and her blue eyes practically shone in joy. "Robert…come say hello to your son," she said in a soft but loving voice.

When he walked over to her and saw what was in that tiny bundle cradled in his wife's arms, Robert honestly believed that he was looking at the living representation of a cherub.

The baby's round cheeks were a rosy and warm color, and his bright blue eyes stared up at him in drowsy confusion, blinking owlishly against the harsh light of the hospital; his soft blonde hair seemed to stick up in feathery spikes, though most of it remained flat on his head.

Lilith was more than delighted with her young son. "He's beautiful," she cooed, and Robert agreed whole-heartedly. She allowed her husband to take the newborn from her, and after a few seconds of awkward handling Robert managed to get the baby settled into his arms.

"Hello, Raphael Charles Knighton," said Robert softly. "I'm your father, in case you're wondering."

The petite woman let out a tired sounding laugh. "I think he knows that already," she said gently, smiling warmly as the baby was handed back to her.

"Lilith…he's perfect," said Robert in awe.

"It was nothing," replied the slender blonde woman with a smile. She winced, however, and looked over at him. "Though I think we'll wait awhile before we do this again."

Raphael, meanwhile, looked up at the two adults with a mixture of curiosity and mild resentment; he instinctively knew that they were his parents, without even consciously registering the thought. The look on his face said as much: "It's nice to meet you, but did you have to be so rough with me?"

After a few moments, the baby yawned and drifted off to asleep, most likely tuckered from the day's events. Lilith gently brushed away a lock of his hair out of his face, a warm smile on her face. Much to Robert's amusement, the strand of hair stuck up in the air after his wife's hand had moved away.

"I think," he joked as he brushed a hand over his sleeping son's head, "that static electricity won't be his new best friend."

* * *

Two days later, the Knightons returned home to their moderately sized mansion—located on the outskirts of Paris—with Raphael in tow, and got a rather pleasant surprise: their own parents had shown up to welcome their grandson.

"Look at him," crowed Anthony Knighton, his brown eyes filled with delight as he held the two day old infant. "He looks like you did as a baby, Robert!"

Robert laughed, taking back Raphael as his father handed the child to him. "That's true, but he has Lilith's hair and eyes," he replied, allowing his mother to hold Raphael next. "She won the genetic lottery this time, but I refuse to lose to a Frenchwoman!" he declared, artfully dodging a playful swipe from Lilith.

"We French are more sophisticated in fashion and food, Robert," she said. "You would no doubt starve and wander through the streets naked if not for us."

"Ah, but whose country is it that is military deficient?" he teased, once again dodging Lilith's mock slap.

Robert and his family hailed from England; his father and mother both had brown hair and hazel eyes, though their hair was steadily graying. Lilith, however, had her roots lying in France; her own parents had blonde hair and blue eyes. Many stereotypical jokes had already been exchanged on the subject, when the families had first learned that Robert planned to marry Lilith.

The two of them had met while Lilith had been visiting London and had instantly fallen in love. Though they did do things traditionally and waited for about a year and a half before they got married, it was apparent to both sides that it was entirely unnecessary. Robert had even gone so far to agree to move to Paris, for Lilith's sake.

Robert frowned now slightly as his sister-in-law entered the room, putting out her cigarette before joining the small crowd of people. Edith, Lilith's twin sister, was not on Robert's favorite people list—she was much snootier than Lilith, and was increasingly more and more concerned with her appearance than with her family; the sheer amount of make-up she wore was enough to make him visibly cringe. To see her here was nothing short of a miracle.

He glanced over at his wife, who was currently holding Raphael and chatting gaily with Pierre, Edith's husband. He wondered idly if Lilith and his two-day old son were in need of some quiet time.

But so far, Raphael had been surprising him. The boy had not cried at all, not since the first hour he'd been born, and he seemed to be basking in all the attention he was getting; according to the baby books it would be a while before Raphael's blank look disappeared, but Robert did not hold much stock to those.

"You know," remarked Lilith's father, Alphonse, as he strode over to his son-in-law. "It's remarkable that your son has not cried at all since we've been here. So many new people must be overwhelming to him, yet he handles it as if he's a proper adult," he finished, voicing what Robert himself had been thinking.

Robert nodded, looking over in time to see Edith open her arms, no doubt to receive his son. He shot her a disapproving look when he was certain no one was looking in his direction. He honestly hoped that his son would grow up to be nothing like her (at least in manners—Raphael WAS a boy, after all).

Edith took Raphael into her arms and said in a voice dripping with syrupy sweetness (the kind that made Robert want to gag), "Hello there, you _adorable_ creature."

Raphael took one look at his aunt's face and began to wail loudly. He wanted nothing to do with this scary lady who looked like his mother, thank you very much; she smelled funny, looked weird, and talked in a strange voice.

Robert fought not to laugh and inwardly congratulated his son. He didn't like Edith either.

Edith nearly dropped the child out of surprise, much to Robert's alarm, and Lilith hastily took back her crying son before any harm came to him. "Oh dear," she said, smiling at the relatives tiredly as Raphael's wails grew in volume. "I think that he's had enough for the day."

The relatives all nodded understandingly, saying their goodbyes jovially but in muted tones as they tiptoed out the door. Robert went over to where his wife had sunk on the sofa and was now rocking Raphael comfortingly. "It's all right now, sweetheart…there there, you poor dear. I guess all those strange faces finally got to him," she commented, looking up at Robert for confirmation.

Robert refrained from what was the perfect setup for an Edith-bashing joke—the woman was Lilith's sister, after all. Instead, he nodded and said, "I guess so. Do you want me to take him for a bit? You look like you need a nap."

Lilith looked at him gratefully. "Thank you, Robert…I'll go get changed into something comfortable—he does need to be fed before I sleep," she said, hurriedly disappearing up the stairs and into their bedroom.

Robert decided that things would be more comfortable in the nursery; the room adjoined his and Lilith's own bedroom. So, after a brief moment to get his son settled comfortably in his arms, he carefully ascended the stairs.

Raphael's sobs were subsiding by the time Robert made it to the nursery, and the brunette man sat himself down on the rocking chair. After a moment, he began to rock back and forth with his son in his arms as he said reassuringly, "It's all right. I don't really blame you for crying—Edith scares me too."

Raphael hiccupped, blinking up at his father with watery blue eyes.

"To be honest, I would have done the same thing, and I'm much older than you," joked the tall brunette man. "Don't tell your mother that—she won't take it too kindly, you see, and I might end up sleeping on the sofa."

His smile faded, and his hazel eyes met with blue orbs. "But it's all right now. I won't let anything hurt you, and neither will your mother. We're your parents, and we'll always be here for you."

The baby blinked away the last of his tears, once again staring up at his father.

Granted, the infant did not know much of this new world—he did not understand what was being said to him, let alone who all those people had been who had been crowding around him earlier. He knew nothing of the world's treacheries, nothing about betrayal and hurt…about death and grief.

All he knew was that there was a nice, kind lady that was his mama, and this strong man holding him and talking in that deep, reassuring voice was his papa.

Frankly, that was all that he needed to know.


	12. No One Likes The Flu

_The piggy flu has struck._

_Currently, both of my parents have the flu, and that means that I am the acting parent at my house. I might be next on the piggy flu's list, but until that point I have a lot of work that I need to do while the parents are sick. As a result, Chapter 17 might be a little late. This one-shot, however, is inspired by this and it is the sequel shot to "Silence" (which, by the way, is post-DOOM—I forgot to mention that last time.)_

* * *

Most Saturday mornings should be spent relaxing in comfort, watching television or reading a good book. Everyone loves a good relaxing morning on the weekend; who wouldn't? It's a chance to sleep in and to not have to worry about homework or a job.

Saturday mornings should not have to be spent shuttling two very sick young men to the nearest regional clinic.

Raphael had been up since about six o'clock that morning, when he had gone to check on Valon (he and Alister had been taking turns checking on the sick boy) only to find that Alister had spontaneously gotten ill overnight; he currently was running a fever as well. This hereby prompted the blonde to wake up fully before gently prodding both of his younger companions into getting out of their pajamas and into some street clothes; he was fairly certain he needed to take them to the doctor, seeing how as both of them were now sick.

The Australian teen was slightly better off than Alister was—he was apparently on the mend, and had been since yesterday. The brunette was a little more responsive when Raphael gently shook the teen awake and managed to get dressed without too much difficulty, though he claimed that he still felt lousy.

Alister required a lot more attention at the moment than Valon. The redhead's movements were sluggish and deliberately slow, and his gray eyes had a disoriented look in them; he was also suffering from short term memory loss, because he would be in the middle of doing something before a blank look would appear on his face and he would look in bemusement at Raphael.

Raphael had put both of the younger bikers in the back of the car (though it had taken a bit to get Alister safely down the stairs, because Alister's sense of balance was horribly off) and then was on his way to the clinic. It bothered him greatly that Alister was acting so disoriented—Raphael now had a great understanding of how he himself acted when first waking up.

"'ey, Raph…'m right sorry 'bout this," said Valon hoarsely from the back seat. The brunette certainly seemed to be feeling better than he had over the past few days—at any rate, the teenager was certainly more talkative, and it was a welcome reprieve from the eerie silence in the home.

"It's not your fault that you got sick," said Raphael, stopping the car at the stoplight. While he waited, he glanced in the rearview mirror at the Australian, who was looking slightly guilty. Alister was tilting his head against the window, and his eyes were closed; it seemed the redhead was asleep.

"I know tha', but it's 'cause of me that Alister's ill. He was in m' room yesterday while you were at work," Valon replied, his blue eyes flickering as he looked over at the redhead.

Alister stirred, returning from whatever stupor he was in long enough to fix Valon with a stern glare. "My fault. Not yours. I went in. Stop blaming yourself," he said, speaking in clipped sentences. He was remarkably tired, and he was barely able to look at the teenager without his eyes crossing. He closed his eyes wearily.

Raphael was not too surprised that Alister had gone in the teen's room. As much as the red-haired man fervently tried to deny it, he did truly care about the well-being of both of his comrades; if Raphael had to wager a guess (because the information that Alister had gone into the boy's room was new), Alister had done so because he had been bothered by Valon's lack of energy.

What Raphael was surprised about was that he himself had not caught whatever Valon and Alister had. Of the trio, he was the most susceptible to catching illnesses—it was slightly ironic, because though he was strong looking his immunity system was just like everyone else's. He had also spent more time in Valon's room than Alister had; though the two older bikers had avoided staying with the sick Australian for too long, Raphael had definitely been in there more than Alister.

The light turned green and Raphael pressed his foot lightly on the gas pedal to ease the car forward. "Alister's got a point, Valon," he said, returning his attention to the road.

"…Can we really trust what Alister says right now, mate? He's kinda actin' loopy."

Despite the hour of the morning, Raphael chuckled. "You definitely seem to be feeling better if you can crack a joke," he remarked.

"Eh," replied Valon dismissively. "I still feel pretty lousy, chum. Just not as bad as Alister is lookin'."

* * *

"Well, it seems that these two have caught a flu bug," said the doctor, eyeing the two sickly looking men. "Whether it's the H1N1 or not has yet to be seen, but they are definitely exhibiting symptoms of the flu."

Alister was sitting on the examination table, swaying violently where he sat (Raphael was standing fairly close, ready to keep Alister steady) and blinking dazedly at the doctor. Valon was on one of the chairs, some semblance of alertness in his blue eyes, but it was obvious that the Australian was once more feeling under the weather.

"Is there anything I can give them?" asked Raphael.

"I'm afraid that for your young friend there it's a little late to give him anything," said the man, gesturing to Valon. "He seems to have about beaten it off, and should be feeling better by Monday. Your other friend, though, seems to have just got it. We can go ahead and give him some TamaFlu, even if he hasn't got the H1N1 virus."

The middle aged man (whose name tag read 'Dr. Wilson') looked at Raphael. "I also recommend that you keep an eye on your own health. You can prevent yourself from winding up like these two if you catch the symptoms early enough: feeling like you are obligated to cough continuously, headaches, that sort of thing."

Raphael nodded distractedly, watching as Alister continued to sway where he sat and blink back sleep. Dr. Wilson seemed to understand the unasked question, because he said, "I'll go ahead and test—Alister, correct?—for the H1N1. Then I'll give you a prescription for him and you three can go about on your way."

Thankfully, the test came back negative for the redhead, and the three were able to leave the office and head for home fifteen minutes later; Raphael would have to drop the two younger bikers off first before he would be able to get Alister's prescription, seeing how as Alister was contagious (and he had no doubt that he would end up catching it in the end).

Valon watched the dozing redhead worriedly the whole way home. "Raph…he's gonna be all right, isn' he?" Valon asked as the blonde pulled into their driveway.

"All he really needs is some sleep and some TamaFlu, Valon. He'll be fine once he gets both of those things," replied Raphael as he left the car, heading around to where Alister was leaning against the window and carefully opening the car door.

After Raphael had gotten both of his younger friends situated in their respective beds—and back into some pajamas—he headed out to the pharmacy long enough to get Alister's prescription filled and he returned home immediately. When Alister was woken up long enough to take the TamaFlu and had taken it, Raphael next went downstairs to the family room. It took a little bit of rearrangement and effort, but in the end the blonde had successfully managed to shift one of the armchair recliners to the upstairs hallway.

The need for him to stay healthy was important, but he wasn't about to distance himself from the two invalids, either. He would prefer to be there if either of the two needed him, and not downstairs.

Misa meowed at Raphael's feet as the older biker looked through the downstairs bookshelf for some good books to read. She was not entirely certain what was going on, but she was certain that something was up.

Raphael jumped slightly, looking down at the kitten in surprise before shaking his head ruefully. He shifted the small pile of books to one hand while bending down and scooping Misa up with his other to situate her comfortably in the crook of his arm.

"Looks like we're the only healthy people left," he said ruefully, heading back upstairs to sit in the sofa chair.


	13. Happy Thanksgiving!

_Oops._

_This—plus a chapter 17 update—are slightly late; technical difficulties with my computer coupled with my parents being sick made this a little late. Crime Scene Fairy, please be a bit more patient and I SWEAR I'll have your request up soon!_

_This one is set in DOOM (with everyone being a year older than the previous two chapters involving DOOM), but they are not in the temple—they are in one of the numerous safe houses employed by Paradius. _

_Happy (late) Thanksgiving, everyone!_

* * *

"Valon, don't even think about sneaking into the kitchen."

The fifteen year old pouted, turning to face his older blonde companion. "Raaph, 'm starvin'. Can' I jus' have an apple or summat like that?" he whined, turning on what he hoped was a puppy dog look.

It didn't work.

"No, because you won't have any room for the turkey," said Raphael calmly, gently but firmly guiding Valon away from the kitchen door.

The Australian rolled his eyes. "Raph, 'm not really sure I wanna eat anythin' that Gurimo makes. That bloke's got it out for me, I swear."

"No he doesn't, Valon. That's your imagination," admonished Raphael wearily.

"…Clearly you weren' there when I called 'im 'Kuriboh' by mistake. Anyway, why aren' you cookin' the bird?"

"Because the chef couldn't come today—something about his wife—and Gurimo kicked me out of the kitchen before I could volunteer," replied Raphael. "And if I recall, you called him that name on purpose."

"Not only that, but you also have continued to steal his monocle as well," said Alister, abruptly coming up beside his two companions. "If you keep tormenting him, Gurimo's going to end up trying to kill you."

"'S'not my fault that he makes it so easy to steal, and 'is name is jus' so easy to make fun of 'n'—ACK! Alister, you're alive!" said Valon, jumping a foot in the air and a surprised look on his face. "I wasn' sure if you were still kickin' or not, since you've been in your room all this time."

The red-haired man shook his head. "Obviously, I am not dead if I am standing right here," he replied easily. "Valon, if you're so hungry why don't you just help Gurimo in the kitchen? If you help him, you might be able to convince him to let you eat."

The brunette stared at Alister as if he had never seen him before, before a Cheshire Cat grin appeared on his face and he slipped his arm out of Raphael's grip. Before the blonde could call him back, the Australian was already inside the room and they heard Valon begin talking animatedly; Alister and Raphael did not even have to be in the room to see the horrified expression on Gurimo's face.

The older blonde looked over at Alister. "You do realize that nothing good is going to come of this."

"Admit it, Raphael. You don't want to babysit Valon today anymore than I do. Besides, I don't like Gurimo either."

"And sending in Valon to help him does…what, exactly?"

"Gurimo can't poison the food with one of us in the room, can he?"

"What if he does anyway?" asked Raphael, half kidding.

Alister shot him a serious look and said flatly, "Then we'll find out when Gurimo willingly allows Valon to sample the food and he keels over dead."

"…That isn't very reassuring, Alister."

* * *

Gurimo eyed the boy with as much enthusiasm as one would eye mold in a kitchen.

Currently the boy was eyeing the oven curiously; his head was tilted to the side as he stared at the lit interior of the stove—no, wait. That was a hungry look, not even a remote amount of curiosity in those eyes.

He had told the impudent youth twenty minutes ago that he did not need help, that he was capable of handling the turkey on his own; he was older than the three young men that he had been forced to work with, and he was perfectly able to make the turkey on his own. Yet this disrespectful boy was in here, drooling over his cooking.

Stupid teenagers.

The tiny egg timer dinged, telling Gurimo that it was time to remove the turkey and baste it. "All right, boy," he said, spitting out the last word as if it was horrible tasting. "You can help me by pulling out the turkey and lifting it while I baste."

Valon blinked at him. "What does bastin' mean?"

"It means," grunted Gurimo as he lifted the turkey out of the oven and set it carefully on the counter, "that I pour some juice on it to stop it from drying out…wait, how do you not know what that means?"

"Never really had to prep a turkey b'fore, mate," said Valon with a shrug. After a moment of regarding it, the teenager frowned at the turkey. "Hey…I don' think this looks right, mate. It isn' s'pposed to be that puffy lookin', is it?"

Gurimo paused, turning to look at his turkey, then dismissed it with a wave. "That is the stuffing making the turkey so full looking. You don't know what you are talking about, boy."

"Yeah, but…I've seen stuffed turkey's b'fore, mate, and I'm pretty sure that this doesn' look right," said Valon, his frown deepening at the object in question. "I'm tellin' ya, I think ya did somethin' wrong 'ere."

"And I am telling you: either you help me with the turkey, like you said you would, or leave," snapped Gurimo, stalking across the kitchen to get the basting tool.

Valon hesitated a moment longer before picking up the serving fork and reluctantly sticking it into the turkey.

* * *

"It's quiet."

Alister looked up from his book at the speaker in question, noticing that Raphael was looking at the door uneasily. "Of course it's quiet. Neither of us has been talking," he said, setting his book down.

The blonde shot him a slightly withering look. "I know that. But it's…too quiet."

The redhead, who hadn't been sure as to what the elder biker had been referring to, paused and listened to his surroundings. After a moment, his gray eyes narrowed. "I do believe you have a point," he said, rising to his feet. "Valon should have been causing some sort of ruckus right about—"

At that precise moment, the two bikers noticed a blur that could be tentatively identified as Valon rush into the room and the figure literally dove behind the couch. "If'easks'mnot'ere'kaythanksfellas!"

"—now. All right, Valon," said Alister wearily as he and Raphael made their way to the sofa. "What did you do now?"

The brunette's head poked out from under the sofa (making Raphael wonder how on earth Valon had fit under there) and said indignantly, "It wasn' even my fault this time! All I did was _poke_ the blasted thing—like 'e _told_ me to—'n' the next thing I know 'm covered with turkey and Gurimo's tryin' to stab me!"

Raphael blinked. "Wait…what about the turkey?" he asked, only now noticing the white specks that liberally covered Valon's face and hair. Realizing what the white was, Raphael felt something of disbelief come onto his face. "Is that what I think it is?" he asked.

Alister seemed to understand what Valon was talking about as well. "Valon, how on earth did you manage to blow up a _turkey_? There is nothing remotely explosive about it, unless you're cooking it with dynamite."

"Yeah, well, ask Gurimo 'bout that! He's the cook righ' now, and—oh bloody heck 'ere he comes," said Valon in alarm, hearing footsteps come down the hall. "Remember fellas: you didn' see anythin'."

The teen ducked back under the sofa just as a disgruntled Gurimo stalked into the room. The older man stared at the two bikers before looking around the room and asking in a dangerous tone, "Have either of you seen Valon?"

"He came in here briefly," said Raphael. "But then he left…why, has something happened?"

Alister was having a difficult time keeping his face straight, and Raphael also found it difficult to not burst out laughing. Gurimo was covered head to toe in turkey meat, just as Valon was, and a huge gob of it had landed on his monocle; it was impossibly hard to keep from laughing once they realized that the man did not know about the meat on the glass.

"If you see him," said Gurimo coldly, "let him know he has to pay for our Thanksgiving turkey. Now if you will excuse me, I have to go get this turkey off of me."

Raphael and Alister exchanged amused glances as Gurimo left the room, and it was not until they heard the upstairs bathroom door slam when Valon slipped out of his hiding place and the two older bikers collapsed with laughter.

The four men ended up ordering a pizza for Thanksgiving dinner, but all three of the younger bikers secretly agreed it was worth it—Gurimo still hadn't noticed the turkey meat on his monocle and did not figure out why the younger bikers kept cracking up until the following afternoon.


	14. Of Wrapping Paper And Boredom

_Request for Crime Scene Fairy!_

_Remember my one-shot 'Oreos'? CSF was the only reviewer who realized that I had moved the Ishtars into the same neighborhood as our favorite biker boys, and as a result asked to see a fic with them. Although this is not quite what she asked for…sorry 'bout that, CSF. _

_Also, UBER sorry that this took so long to post. Finals are a drag._

_Once again, this is post-DOOM, and has nothing to do with the timeline established in 'The Return'._

* * *

The neighborhood was baffled.

For several nights now, the houses in the vicinity had been plagued by pranksters. And not ordinary ones—not by a long shot.

People woke up in the mornings to find that the outside of their cars had been covered with Christmas themed wrapping paper and red and green paper chains; when they ripped off the paper covering the exterior of their car, it was to find that the interior had also been liberally wrapped as well, right down to the steering wheel and even the seats.

Some of the neighbors thought it was amusing, and even kept the interior decorations where they were (except where it was hindering their driving capabilities). Others had called the police several times to come investigate their cars to find the culprit, trying to figure out how their car alarms hadn't gone off—but the police were also amused by the attempt at holiday cheer and did nothing more than make a half-hearted scope of the neighborhood.

The biker's home had been the first one to be hit by this mystery prankster.

At first, Alister and Raphael had assumed that it was once again Valon at work when they both went out to their motorcycles and found that every part on it possible had been wrapped in Christmas paper. But when the Australian adamantly denied it (and they found that his own bike had received the same treatment), they had to wonder who else was responsible.

Whoever it was, they were spending a fortune on wrapping paper.

The neighbors who did not appreciate the gift wrapping of their cars got would sit out and try to catch the perpetrator in the act; however, they never seemed to be able to, mainly because whoever was doing it seemed to know that someone was watching and would go hit another house.

Then, after every car/motorcycle in the neighborhood had been hit, the trees were next.

In addition to the wrapped up cars, people would wake up to find that a tree in their yard had been liberally wrapped with Christmas lights of assorting colors; occasionally, there would be one that was covered in ornaments as well. By that point, the more stingy neighbors were annoyed beyond all reason. A couple of them even went so far as to install working security cameras, in hope of catching the one responsible.

Well, that idea worked fine until the very night after installation, when the culprit slipped beneath the cameras and disabled them from below.

It seemed now that the people in the neighborhood who actually appreciated what was happening did nothing to the decorations and were left alone from further invasion—making a war between the unappreciative residents of the neighborhood and the perp(s).

Alister shook his head in amusement as he dismounted from his motorcycle and surveyed the neighborhood; he had had to go to the family center today. The sun was beginning to go down, and the lights from the decorated trees were already twinkling; the redhead had to wonder just how much time that the culprit (or culprits, for no one had any idea just how many perpetrators there were) had on their hands to think up an idea like this.

As he entered their house and dislodged a few stray snowflakes from his hair, he immediately found Valon in the family room, sitting cross-legged on the floor and playing one of his video games. Misa was perched on the teen's shoulders, though she leapt off of him lightly when she saw Alister enter the room and began rubbing herself all over him.

Sitting on the couch was a teenager Alister did not recall meeting before. The boy was tan and had shoulder length sand-colored hair, with lavender eyes and golden earrings; Alister was certain there was more golden jewelry beneath the long-sleeve turtleneck that the teen wore. Though he was uncertain as to the identity of this stranger, he had seen him before—the red-haired man had spotted the moving van that had appeared a few weeks ago and remembered that the boy had been there.

Valon turned partially to look over at Alister and grinned. "'Ello, Alister!"

"Who's our guest?" asked Alister in response, hanging his coat over the back of the couch.

The other teen rose respectfully from his seat and offered his hand. "Marik Ishtar," he said, and Alister caught the subtle accent native to his home country (it seemed likely it was Egypt). Alister took his hand and shook it firmly.

"Marik, that's one of m' chums, Alister," said Valon, pausing his game and padding over to Alister and Marik.

"Pleasure," said Alister calmly, heading for the kitchen.

"'e 'as a motorcycle too, Alister!" said Valon cheerfully, following after him.

"I had a flat tire this morning and I remembered that you guys had motorcycles. I had half hoped that you had a spare tire," explained Marik sheepishly. "Never quite left after that."

The boy glanced at a nearby clock and frowned slightly. "I need to go—my brother and sister will be home by now," he said, exiting the kitchen.

Valon followed the other teenager out of the room and continued to talk to him animatedly down the hall. Alister once again shook his head as he went over to the refrigerator and got out the ingredients for that evening's meal. It was nice that Valon had found someone in this neighborhood who was around his age—though the brunette seemed content to hang around Raphael and himself, it was a welcome sight to see him hang around someone in his own age group.

The redhead bent down to rummage in one of the lower cabinets for a saucepan. When his hand encountered a smooth surface and a crinkling noise issued from the cabinet, he raised an eyebrow and bent down further to see what his hand encountered.

…Wrapping paper.

Roughly twenty rolls of _Christmas_ wrapping paper, to be precise.

Alister paused, staring at the roll of paper in his hand. The brunette teenager must have been stockpiling this pile since…roughly Halloween. There was more than enough in there to wrap a small building.

He debated. On the one hand, he could rat out Valon to Raphael and the neighbors; he was certain that the neighbors would appreciate having the culprit put out of business.

On the other hand, Alister still remembered how every single one of those stingy neighbors had repeatedly referred to him as 'Ma'am' despite knowing his gender.

In the end, the redhead simply shrugged and replaced the wrapping paper where he had found it.

* * *

Valon was indeed the original perpetrator behind the wrapping of Raphael, Alister's, and his own motorcycle; to divert suspicion, he had wrapped his own as well. He blamed his actions on boredom—the neighborhood they lived in was not a very decorative one, and Valon felt that Christmas deserved to be celebrated in the best fashion possible. He had been about to start on Marik's own motorcycle before the other teen had caught him in the act—and had decided to join in on the fun ("Mainly because I am bored."). Valon could easily break into the cars and disarm the car alarm—he had lived on the streets, after all—and it had been Marik's idea to decorate one tree per yard.

"I vote we do snowmen next. They wouldn' expect us to do tha'," said the Australian gleefully.

Marik wrinkled his nose as he pulled on his jacket. "But I don't really like snow," he said. "It's kind of an Egypt thing—we don't really like cold and wet."

Valon grinned. "'ow about _multi-colored_ snowmen?"

"…As long as they aren't yellow."

Valon and Marik looked at each other for a long moment before they were forced to smother their laughter.

Oh yes…this was going to be fun.


	15. Come Back

_Technically, this is Valon's 'Baby Book Special'. Not his actual one, mind._

_When it all came down to it, I realized that Valon does not have any coherent memories about his parents; therefore, it makes sense to keep his parent's identities in the dark (for now, at any rate). Plus, we all never really heard about his mom or dad. We do know he lived on the street, and I earlier stated what had happened with Valon's parent's (in case memories are rusty, 'Family Name' is the story they first appeared in)._

_Besides, this idea kept recurring every time I tried to think about a baby Valon._

_Grab your tissue boxes. This one needs it._

* * *

He knew something was wrong that morning.

The four year old had been uneasy for some time; time was not yet able to be measured, due to his age, but later in life he figured that it had been going on for several weeks. There had been a nameless tension in his house, especially with his parents. Their whispered conversations were not easily understood by the child, and it would take years before that boy understood the bulk of his parent's conversations; he understood his own name, and he vaguely understood what 'money' was.

He also understood that both he himself and this 'money' word were somehow connected.

And that his parents were not happy about it.

Years later, he would not be able to recall faces or voices to associate with the term 'parents'—whether they had his 'poofy' hair (that somehow managed to defy gravity and remain in that star-shaped pattern) or not was something he honestly did not know.

But he remembered scents though. He always had a way of remembering smell, mainly because he was such a food glutton. His mother always smelled of cinnamon and nutmeg, making him think of a gingerbread house that he had once built, but starting around then she began to wear some cheap and awful smelling perfume. His father smelled of some foul substance usually—cigarette smoke was the closest thing he could associate with it. He didn't know if his father smoked or not; he was lucky enough to remember that tidbit alone.

Even though he was four years old, he knew instinctively that something was wrong. As he had sat in the backyard yesterday and played with the sticks, pretending that they were the tin soldiers he'd seen once in a toy store window, he had watched his parents get down their suitcases and start loading things into it. Mommy said that they could not buy the soldiers because they were 'spensive; the house they resided in and the neighborhood they lived in certainly backed up that claim.

He hadn't though anything of it—his mother had said something about going on a trip, and he was assured that his parents would take him with them. After all, he was their child, their only son—they weren't liable to forget about him. Yet that morning, when he sat up and pushed back that thin bed sheet away from his body, he knew instantly that something was not right.

He wandered through the house calling for his mother and father, thinking that they were outside or in the basement. As he passed their room, however, he realized that their door was ajar; normally, it was closed. Curious, he stepped into the room.

The closet door was open, empty hangars still on the rack; there were no clothes in there. In fact, there was nothing in the closet at all…or on the countertops…or anywhere. There was nothing in his parent's bedroom.

Instantly he remembered the suitcases. He remembered his mother's vague explanation of some vacation that they were going on. He remembered that suitcases were used to move things and that people left with them when they got in their cars to go to places. Maybe they had left already.

But surely they would not leave him here by himself…

Feeling even more uneasy, the four year old left the room and called even louder for his parents. When he got no answer, fear slipped into his mind and he increased the volume of his cries. There was a terrible suspicion forming in his mind, one that no four-year old should ever have to think about.

Yet, in that childish four year old way, he refused to believe it. He was certain they would come back, because they were his mom and dad—they weren't supposed to leave him by himself. They loved him…Mommy had even said so, a thousand times. She loved him—she couldn't leave him here, all alone. She would come back, and so would Daddy.

They_ had_ to.

The day passed in agonizing slowness, and when night fell and the hungry four year old went to bed (for there was not even any food left in the refrigerator), he was baffled as to why they hadn't come home yet. Yet, even with the growing fear in his heart, he still stubbornly believed that they would come back for him.

But the next morning told him that they were never coming back.

The boy stood in the doorway to his parent's empty bedroom, staring at the bed that had not been slept in, and reality finally hit home.

He was four years old, but he was no idiot. He understood a lot of things that most other four year olds didn't; he wasn't sure how, but he did. And nothing to him was more horrible than that moment when he realized his parents were gone.

They had left him behind.

"Mommy…wha' I do wrong?" whimpered the child, sinking to the floor and leaning against the doorframe. "Why you leef me 'ere?"

Getting no answer sent the already scared child into a fit. He flew to his feet abruptly and ran through the house, opening every door he could find and calling for his parents over and over again. Cupboards, bedrooms, closets—all doors were yanked open. Objects in the rooms and closets were yanked out and scattered to the floor.

Yet nothing changed. His parents were _gone._

They were never coming back for him.

_Never._

The four year old boy stood in the middle of the front hallway, miscellaneous objects scattered about his feet, his chest heaving and his breath coming in ragged gasps. His cerulean eyes were wide and full of pain and tears, and his brown bangs fell into his eyes. His tiny hands were cut from where a bottle had fallen and the shards had sliced his skin, but he barely noticed it.

"Mommy…Daddy…come back," he said in a small and subdued voice, tears slipping down his cheeks. "P'ease…come back. I scared…p'ease," he said in a choked voice as he looked at the doorway to his parent's room. They did not come through the door, and his little heart ached.

He sank to his knees amidst all the cluttered objects on the floor and began to sob, his voice rising in volume. "Come back! Come back, come back, COME BACK!" he sobbed brokenly. "P'EASE! MOMMY! DADDY! COME BACK!"

But they didn't.

And Valon found that no amount of crying was going to ever make them come back.


	16. Early Morning Conversations

_This is the first of two (possibly three) Christmas related shots._

_...Yes, I plan to have two shots posted by the end of tonight. No kidding. This one is post-DOOM._

_Happy Holidays!_

* * *

Poke.

"Raph?"

Poke poke.

"Raaaph…"

Poke poke poke.

"Raph, you awake?"

Incoherent mumble.

"Looks like you're…semi-awake, if anythin'. Got a quick question f'r ya, chum."

"…V'lon…'s one 'n mornin'…"

"I know that, Raph. Right sorry I had t' wake ya up, mate, but I had a question."

"'s it 'mportan'?"

"…Sorta."

A pair of ice blue eyes opened blearily. "'m listenin'."

"Wha' kinda books do ya like to read?"

A few moments went by, in which the older blonde man bordered between gathering his thoughts to form a coherent response and returning to sleep.

"Raph?"

An experimental poke on the blonde's shoulder, however, told him to forget about going back to sleep until the inquiry was suitably answered.

"'m 'wake, 'm 'wake," he muttered, rubbing his eyes and regarding the brunette Australian sleepily.

"You gonna answer m' question?"

Another sleepy pause, broken by a stifled yawn. "Look a' bookshe'f, top righ'. Go ba' t' bed."

"Thank you, chum," said Valon in a cheerful whisper, already slipping out the door and leaving a confused (and extremely sleepy) Raphael behind. Once out of the blonde's room, the teenager eased the door shut and crept down the hall toward his own room. He would grab his flashlight first before going downstairs and looking at the bookshelf.

Christmas was now only a couple of days away, and the Australian had realized that he had not gotten his shopping done; he wasn't too sure about whether or not his two older friends had gotten something for him, but Valon didn't really mind that.

[Of course, Raphael and Alister both had gotten Valon and each other something for Christmas—but Valon didn't know that because they both were extremely good at hiding their purchases.]

He figured he would wait until Alister woke up before trying to talk to him. By now, Valon knew better than to try and wake Alister up; at least Raphael was sleepy enough to willingly answer any of Valon's whimsical (literally) any-time-of-day questions. It also helped that Valon had done this so many times before—starting back from DOOM—that Raphael had gotten somewhat used to the Australian's late night inquiries.

Alister was not so tolerant.

Apparently, Alister only got about five hours of sleep per night. Usually, the stoic redhead would be the last to go to bed and the first to rise; there had been only a handful of times that Alister either slept in or Raphael had beat him to the kitchen, and Valon could count those occasions on one hand. Once Alister was awake, he did not return to sleep.

The teenager suspected it had something to do with the war the older man had lived through, but since he wasn't really certain how to ask that question (or any regarding Alister's past), Valon left it be.

There was also something else that stopped Valon from asking Alister any late-night questions. The redhead could get downright cranky when woken up for 'stupid reasons' and…well, it had only taken one night spent in a closet for Valon to figure that one out.

Misa meowed softly, padding after him and rubbing against his leg whenever he stopped walking. Valon looked down at her and shook his head in wry amusement before bending down and placing Misa on his shoulders. "C'mon, kitty," he said in a whisper. "Let's go figure out what we can do for Raph and Alister, eh?"

* * *

"Alister?"

The redhead blinked, looking around to the source of the voice. He had been fully expecting Raphael to come down the stairs, but instead was surprised to see Valon—fully dressed, no less—standing in the doorway to the kitchen; not only that, but it seemed that the teenager was wide awake for a change.

"Did you need something, Valon?" asked Alister, and to an outsider it would seem like the reply was rude. In reality, Alister was bothered by the fact that _Valon _was up before _Raphael, _and that fell into the 'something's up' category.

"Actually, yeah," said the boy, flopping into his seat. "I was wonderin' what kinda books ya like t' read."

Alister blinked, concern replaced with confusion. "…And you want to know because…?"

"Well, the thought kinda hit me las' night, and I went and asked Raph already. I like readin' comic books, and now all I need t' do is find out yours," replied Valon cheerfully.

"…Please tell me you didn't wake him up at some ungodly hour in the morning again."

Valon did not immediately reply, and the redhead sighed. "You did, didn't you?"

"Well, yeah. Raph's a patient fella, 'e _lets_ me ask 'im things tha' early."

"…That was a jab directed at me, wasn't it?"

"At least Raph doesn' lock me in a closet if I wanna ask 'im somethin'," replied Valon nonchalantly. "Now, whatcha like t' to read?"

Alister, who had already begun to brew the coffee meant for Raphael, paused and frowned thoughtfully. "I guess…I don't mind reading mysteries."

"Like tha' _Puppet on a String_ book?"

"Yes. Like that one," replied Alister, turning his back on Valon to turn on the coffee maker. "And the only reason Raphael hasn't locked you in a closet is because he is too much of a nice guy. Stop where you are, or you're going to walk into the wall again."

This last comment was directed at Raphael, who had woken up and had come down the stairs (and had nearly walked into the wall again). Valon blinked, turning around in his seat to watch his older friend wander sleepily to the kitchen table and sit down in his seat. Alister set down a steaming coffee mug in front of the blonde and moved away to begin making breakfast.

"Thanks," muttered Raphael, stifling a yawn. He took a sip from it before he looked at where Valon was sitting and raised an eyebrow. "You're up early."

"Yup," responded Valon cheerfully. "Figured I'd go get some things from the mall b'fore the Christmas crowds beat me into the ground—there's a couple o' video games that 'r' on sale righ' 'bout now."

The boy glanced at the clock before rising from his seat and leaving the room. "See ya 'round, fellas!" he called over his shoulder.

Both of the older bikers looked at each other in surprise. "He does know that it's roughly six thirty, right?" asked Raphael at length.

Alister shook his head. "I'm surprised that he didn't even eat breakfast."

"…You do realize that something's up, right?"

"I do. But two things stop me from asking him what: it's nearly Christmas, one, and with Valon it could be almost anything. I've learned not to ask."


	17. This Is Why We Don't Give Valon Sugar

_Second holiday shot, and the third will be out between now and Saturday. This one is another one set in DOOM, sequel to "Happy Thanksgiving!"_

_If you can't figure out what Valon is saying (and you will understand what I am talking about in a minute), look at the bottom. I have provided translations :D_

* * *

"WHOOOO-HOOOOOOOO!!!"

Raphael jumped a foot in the air, startled enough to drop the book he had been reading and look around for the source of the noise. Alister, who had been asleep in the window seat, fell out of the window seat and landed on the floor with an alarmed cry.

"What the…who's yelling?" asked Alister sharply, looking to Raphael for an explanation.

The blonde looked baffled. "I don't really know," he admitted, rising from his seat. "But I think it's best if we figure it out—and quick."

The two bikers rose to their feet and left the room, both trying to figure out where it was that the person who yelled was currently located (since it seemed that their target was mobile). Every now and then they would hear loud, almost maniacal laughter filter from somewhere in front of them, but whoever it was seemingly was psychic. Every time they got closer, the person got farther.

As they wandered around, Alister noticed that the Christmas tree was missing something from it, though what it was wasn't immediately apparent. They also noticed that tinsel had been strewn everywhere, along with haphazardly hung ornaments. The smell of peppermint hung in the air, among other things. He was about to ask Raphael what he thought had happened before loud stomping was heard and Gurimo appeared at the foot of the stairs. He looked distinctly frazzled and was soaking wet.

Raphael, who had already been forming suspicions based off of what he had been listening to, exchanged glances with Alister. "How much money do you want to bet me that Valon is somehow involved with this?"

The redhead raised an eyebrow. "If I had no idea who Valon was or what he is capable of, I would take you up on that bet."

Gurimo seemed to notice the two of them, for he marched up to the pair of them and said in a dangerous voice, "Control that menace before I call Master Dartz in."

Raphael frowned. "Valon's not a menace, Gurimo."

"Then go and control him! In the meantime, I still have to pack!" snapped Gurimo, going into his bedroom and slamming the door.

Alister narrowed his eyes. "I'll be glad when he leaves for that mission tomorrow. We certainly don't need his kind of cheerfulness around here."

The older blonde shook his head, already heading for the stairwell. "Let's go figure out just what Valon did this time and—"

Raphael did not get a chance to finish his sentence.

"Oh'eyfellaswhatchadoin'nevermindgottagodecorate!"

The two other bikers stared at the blur—tentatively identified as Valon— as it disappeared into the living room with complete disbelief. "Do you want to try and explain what just happened?" asked Alister at last, continuing to stare at the room that was now emanating loud crashing sounds.

"…If I had to wager a guess…" said Raphael, returning to the family room. Alister followed after him, wondering what the blonde was up to.

When he got into the family room, it was to find that Raphael was standing in front of the Christmas tree, scrutinizing it intently. As Alister came up alongside him, Raphael sighed heavily and shook his head. "I thought so."

"Thought what?"

"Valon was supposed to decorate the house—that included putting candy canes on the tree. If I know him any, he ate all four boxes of the candy canes we bought—oh look, he even ate all the chocolate too—and is currently running around with a sugar high."

"…We had candy canes and chocolate?"

"Look at the floor—four empty boxes, plus wrappers, are nearby the tree."

Alister looked at Raphael with something akin to horror. "Who in their right mind would let Valon near any kind of sugar?"

"That would be Gurimo. In his exact words: 'You blew up my turkey, so you can decorate the house.' Somehow, though, I don't think he was quite expecting this to happen," Raphael said with a sigh.

"Darnrigh'hewasn'it was'isfaultanywaytha'theturkeyblewup," said Valon indignantly, randomly stringing another line of tinsel that ran from the mantel to the sofa.

Both older men jumped, turning to look at the teenager and then trying to figure out when he had gotten in there and how long he'd been in the room. Raphael recovered first and shook his head. "Valon, I can understand how you got hyper, and I can even understand why you're acting like this…but how on earth did Gurimo end up soaking wet?"

Valon grinned from where he was now bouncing up and down on the sofa. "WellseeIthought'ewouldmeltifIthrewwateron'im."

"…I don't even want to know where that logic came from," said Alister.

Raphael sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Valon, quit bouncing on the sofa or you're going to break it."

"Iwillnotit'sarigh'sturdypieceo'—GAH!"

As Raphael had predicted, the sofa was not built to withstand anyone jumping on it—let alone a teenager with a sugar rush. As a result, the sofa collapsed with an ear-splitting crack and Valon ended up trapped beneath the back of the sofa.

Raphael and Alister quickly disentangled Valon from the remnants of the sofa. "Are you all right?" asked the blonde, checking Valon with his eyes to make certain the boy was all right.

"Ohnoneedt'worryRaph'mjustpeachy!" said Valon cheerfully, grabbing the tinsel from where it had landed. Grinning madly, he gave one end of the tinsel to Alister and said, "'oldthiswillya?"

Before Alister could properly understand what was happening, Valon had begun to run in circles around the older redhead; the tinsel followed after the boy, wrapping poor Alister in it. Raphael could only watch in disbelief as the redhead was trapped within the increasing layers of tinsel.

Valon stopped at length, stepping back to admire his handiwork. "Welltha'looksrighlovelyIgottagoseeya!"

With that parting statement Valon ran out of the room, cackling madly as he went. This left two very confused (well, one of them was more annoyed than confused) young men in his wake.

Raphael looked over at where Alister was violently wobbling, trying to keep his balance, and despite himself began to grin. "At least he was thorough," he said.

Alister glared at him but said nothing—the tinsel was around his mouth as well, preventing him from talking. After a moment of finagling, Alister managed to free up his face from the festively colored tinsel and said flatly, "We are never again letting Valon anywhere near that amount of candy. NEVER. AGAIN."

Of course, Alister ended up forgetting about this event and a couple of Halloweens later he and Raphael had to deal with the crazed, sugar-high teenager once again; they had forgotten and had given the boy the remainders of the candy they were supposed to hand out to the children.

…On another note, Gurimo never could figure out how the sofa ended up broken.

* * *

_Translations (I am not even going to try bothering with punctuation):_

"_Oh'eyfellaswhatchadoin'nevermindgottagodecorate!"= "Oh 'ey fellas whatcha doin' never mind gotta go decorate!"_

_"Darnrigh'hewasn'it was'isfaultanywaytha'theturkeyblewup," = "Darn righ' he wasn' it was 'is fault anyway tha' the turkey blew up,"_

_"WellseeIthought'ewouldmeltifIthrewwateron'im." = "Well see I thought 'e would melt if I threw water on 'im."_

_"Iwillnotit'sarigh'sturdypieceo'—GAH!" = "I will not it'is a righ' sturdy piece of—GAH!"_

_"Ohnoneedt'worryRaph'mjustpeachy!" = "Oh no need to worry Raph 'm just peachy!"_

_"Welltha'looksrighlovelyIgottagoseeya!" = "Well tha' looks right lovely I gotta go see ya!"_

_Happy Holidays, everyone!_


	18. Merry Christmas!

_This one kinda beat me over the head with one of those lawn gnomes._

_This is post-DOOM, and is the third Christmas shot for you guys. I would have had this up sooner, but two people in my family have birthdays almost immediately after Christmas; that made me VERY busy._

_A (late) Merry Christmas to you!_

* * *

"MERRY CHRISTMAS, ALISTER!"

Alister let out a startled yelp, falling out of his bed and hitting the floor hard. Growling as he recognized the voice, the redhead looked up at a familiar teenager and said in a would-be calm tone, "Valon, as holly and jolly Christmas is supposed to be, it won't stop me from killing you if the time right now is before the crack of dawn."

"Nup! I letcha sleep in, 'cause 'm nice like that," said the Australian cheerfully, already bouncing out of the room to either wake up Raphael or go downstairs. "C'mon, mate! 'urry up!"

Alister muttered under his breath, but nonetheless got up and shivered slightly at the cold in his room; this would be a good morning for slippers. As he rose from the floor and pulled on his robe, the redhead glanced at his alarm clock to see what time it was.

…Valon needed to reacquaint himself with the phrase 'sleeping in.'

"At least he didn't wake me up at two again," he muttered, suppressing a yawn as he padded out of his room. He entered the hall and promptly noticed Raphael semi-stumbling (Alister never could figure out how the older man was able to walk from the upstairs to the downstairs in the mornings and remain unharmed) down the stairs. Alister quickened his pace and caught up to the blonde. "Careful—you don't really want to fall down on Christmas."

"That'd certainly put a damper on things, wouldn't it?" muttered Raphael sleepily. He stifled a yawn as he made his way to where the family room was.

"I made coffee last night," said Alister. "I figured Valon would wake us up at some ungodly hour."

"Good thinking," replied the blonde man as he arrived at the doorway to the family room. He stopped in the doorway, however, and did not go in. "Alister?"

"Huh?"

"I know I'm not a morning person, but am I seeing things?"

Blinking in confusion, Alister walked over to where Raphael was and looked into the room as well.

The three bikers, who had just moved in their home months ago, had had absolutely no time to go out and buy any sort of Christmas decorations (Alister still could not figure out how on earth Valon had managed to afford all the lights and the wrapping paper that had been used earlier), so their home had been lacking any sort of decoration.

The previously bare room now had a tree standing in the corner, lights twinkling merrily. Though they were plain, ornaments hung from the boughs of the tree. Stockings had been hung from the fireplace, and on the mantle were several miscellaneous, Christmas themed items. Red and green tinsel had been placed around strategic points in the room, completing the decorations.

"…Unless we both happen to be having the same dream, then no. I don't think you're seeing things," said Alister when he found his voice.

"There ya both are!" chirped Valon cheerfully, handing Raphael a steaming coffee mug. "Whaddaya think?"

"Valon…how did you…?"

The teenager grinned. "If I told ya, it wouldn' be a secret. Now c'mon!" he said, flopping on the sofa excitedly. After one more moment of regarding the room with a mixture of disbelief and amusement, the two older bikers followed after the teen.

"Comin' atcha, Raph!" called Valon, tossing a wrapped package at the eldest biker. Instinctively, Raphael set his coffee down with one hand and caught the present in the other; the Australian had thrown things at him so many times in the past, it was more out of habit than anything else that he did so now.

He looked down at it and immediately could tell that it was from Valon—the haphazard wrapping gave it away instantly. Shaking his head, he began to unwrap the package, ducking the thrown present directed at Alister (judging by the thump and the ensuing "Ouch!" Alister had not been expecting it).

When he finished, it was to find several books lying in his lap. Curiously, he lifted one and inspected the title. He looked over at Valon and held up one of them. "So this is why you asked me about my reading preferences," he mused. "_The Hobbit, The Two Towers, The Return of the King, _and…_Watership Down?"_

"I dunno, it seemed like somethin' you would read," said Valon absently, tossing Raphael another package. "Heads up, Alister!"

This time, Alister caught the thrown parcel, a scowl in place. "It would be in your best interest if you _watched_ where you throw," he said, and Raphael noticed the growing red mark on the other man's forehead.

The teenager shrugged, beginning to unwrap one of his own presents. "Not my fault you weren' watchin', mate," he replied, his eyes lighting up when he finished unwrapping his own gift.

Raphael usually did not bother asking around or fishing for what people wanted; he figured it was predictable and therefore avoided it when he could. He shopped for gifts based on what he knew about the person, not based off a list.

When it had come to Valon, he had remembered that the teen liked video games and comic books, as well as watching any kind of action films. He had also remembered that Valon was currently fascinated with an anime titled _Yu Yu Hakusho. _The resulting present was a video game and a movie centered around that particular show.

"Thanks, Raph," said Valon, setting the parcel down.

Alister finished opening his gift (once again, it was easy to tell it was from a certain teenager) and looked over at Valon. "The complete first season of _CSI _and _The Bone Collector _by Jeffrey Deaver?"

"You like all tha' crime scene stuff, and the lady at the bookstore said that 'e was a right good author," said the Australian in reply.

Meanwhile, Raphael had just finished unwrapping Alister's gift. He raised an eyebrow and remarked, "This is going to come in handy."

Neither of the other two bikers understood the exact science of how Alister shopped for gifts, but Raphael suspected that the quiet young man secretly took stock of conversation topics and derived what would be best to give from that. Usually, neither of them would even remember what the conversation was about until a gift from Alister reminded them of it.

This time Alister remembered that Raphael had been having issues going to sleep lately, and had bought a music CD that focused entirely on classical music; when he flipped it over, he caught names such as Beethoven and Mozart. Investigating further, he lifted up a pair of headphones and a Walkman.

"Again, Alister, this is going to come in handy. Thank you," said Raphael, setting the parcel aside. The other young man flashed a brief smile before it disappeared and he began to unwrap Raphael's present.

Valon, meanwhile, opened up his gift from Alister—and gawked in disbelief.

"Alister...what…" the teen began, lifting the book and staring at it incredulously.

"You were bored. I figured I'd give you something to do," said Alister.

"…_1001 Pranks to Pull on Friends and Family_?"

Raphael wondered if Alister had lost his mind—the maniacal grin on the teen's face was quite chilling to behold.

"You pull any of those on me, I will_ personally_ throw you outside. However, I do believe we have some neighbors who need to be acquainted with this book—and there are pranks in here that don'trequire wrapping paper and Christmas lights," replied the redhead idly, unwrapping Raphael's gift.

He looked over at the blonde and held up a new pair of gloves and sunglasses, before putting both of them down and picking up a crossword book. "Very much needed," was all he said, but Raphael knew Alister well enough to know that the redhead was rather pleased with the gift.

The contents of the stockings were all identical—a nutcracker in each, followed by a couple of candy canes and a type of beverage. Raphael ended up with a favorite brand of coffee, Alister found a package of green tea, and Valon had a pack of Monster (which Raphael quickly confiscated, along with the candy canes).

The three sat in the room for a bit until Valon announced he was hungry, and they proceeded to pick up the stray wrapping paper from the floor. As Raphael reached under the tree, his hand encountered a wrapped package and he frowned, pulling it out. It was slim, and there was a metallic feel to it beneath the wrapping paper; his best guess was that it was a picture frame. Wondering if maybe someone had forgotten about one of their gifts, he checked the name tag. His frown deepened, and he looked up.

"Did either of you get a gift meant for the three of us?" he asked, lifting the gift so that both Alister and Valon could see it.

The younger bikers exchanged confused glances before shaking their heads. "B'lieve me, Raph, I didn' have any money left f'r that," said Valon.

"And I certainly didn't. Judging by that expression on your face, you didn't either," said Alister, coming over to investigate it.

"Should we open it?" asked Valon hesitantly. "We dunno who i's from."

Raphael contemplated for a moment. "Let's see what it is first, and then after that we go from there," he said aloud. He took a corner of the paper and carefully tore it off, pulling the wrapping paper away and then holding the object inside out to inspect it.

"What is it, Raph?" asked Valon, peering around the blonde to inspect the item in his friend's hand. Alister also leaned forward a bit to see what had both of his friend's attentions.

The three of them got the biggest surprise of the year.

Raphael was holding a silver picture frame, plain but with etched designs in the top left and bottom right corners. The frame was lightweight and its backing was a black velvet material. What had the three bikers staring in shock was the picture.

The photograph had been taken back when the three of them had been in DOOM; it had been their first Christmas together, and Dartz had hosted a Christmas party for his employees that year in Paradius. Even Alister had gone to it, though it had been against his will and he had hidden in the back of the room for most of the time. The red-haired man, however, had been dragged into this particular photo.

The three of them were sitting comfortably on a sofa in the lobby. Raphael was on the right, wearing a simple black short-sleeve turtleneck sweater and a broad smile; Alister was on the left, wearing an ivory colored long-sleeved shirt, and he had a slight smile on his face; and Valon was in the middle, wearing a blue long-sleeve with a red insignia and similar designs on the sleeves, grinning widely.

"Raph…who sent this?" asked Valon, staring at the picture. "I swear I didn'."

Alister picked up the frame and inspected it thoroughly, looking for some sign of a card or a written explanation. "There isn't anything that identifies a sender," he said, completely baffled. He handed the picture back to Raphael, who then set it on the mantle.

"I don't mind it at all though," said the blonde, smiling at the picture. "We don't really have a camera—this might be the closest thing to a group photo we have."

Valon looked at the silver picture frame and then to his two older friends. He then said with a straight face, "I always knew Santa existed. All I needed was proof."

"…Don't be ridiculous, Valon," said Alister flatly after a moment of silence. "We all know he doesn't."

"So where'd that come from?" asked Valon, gesturing to the photograph.

Not one of the three had an answer.

* * *

From the shadows of one of the houses, a figure watched the three bikers silently. Judging by the fact that they were gathered together, he suspected they had found the present he had left them.

"Merry Christmas, you three," Dartz said simply, and then turned on his heel and vanished into the early morning.


	19. Happy New Year!

_Before anyone asks, I don't know where the inspiration behind this one came from._

_This one is set during DOOM, and can be read as a sequel to the two-shot 'Oops'. On a note, 'Auld Lang Syne' is that one song everyone sings around New Year's: "But should all acquaintance be forgot..."_

_...You'll understand what I'm talking about in a minute._

_Happy (late...I need to start posting these things on time) New Year!_

* * *

"All right…does someone want to explain what happened here?"

This question was asked by a very irritated looking and very wet Dartz. In front of him, Raphael, Alister, and Gurimo—who were covered in smudges of smoke, soaked through with water, and smelled like burned hair—were pointedly not looking at the aquamarine haired figure.

"I leave this room for ten minutes to converse with one of our men, and I return to find that the fire alarm has been set off, the sprinklers went off, and before this point I heard _explosions_. Who wants to volunteer an explanation to me? Now, if you don't mind."

Their current location was inside the DOOM temple's main meeting room, which was where they were currently holding their meetings until the main hall's extension was finished; the Room of Souls had gotten larger, therefore the main hall needed to be enlarged.

The reason the group was meeting in the room was because Gurimo had returned from one of his missions and he needed to debrief it with Dartz. The other two had not gone with him, but they did need to be assigned their next task.

This particular room they were in: 1) had a large balcony outside; 2) had wide, spacious windows; and 3) was covered in scorch marks and broken glass.

After a moment, Gurimo spoke up. "Well Master Dartz, it was like this. That hooligan teenager came waltzing in here with a bunch of highly dangerous explosives, claiming he was going to launch them from in here. Of course, _I _wouldn't let him dare do such a thing—"

"Sure you didn't, Gurimo. That's why he was able to waltz out to the balcony, set up the fireworks, and set them all off—because you put a stop to him," muttered Alister irritably. The red-haired man's face had smudges of black powder and his red hair hung limply about his face.

"Wait a moment, Alister. Are you telling me that Valon was able to launch fireworks from inside this building…_again_…after what happened this past Fourth of July?" asked Dartz in a would-be calm voice.

"…In a nutshell," said Alister, his voice cautious.

"Alister and Raphael should not have let that punk run rampant around here, doing anything he wants without regard to our headquarters," said Gurimo. From behind him, Alister exchanged glances with Raphael, whose hair was also flat on his head (for a change).

"Master Dartz, with all due respect…Valon's barely sixteen years old, and we aren't even certain of that much," said the blonde man tentatively. "He got excited. It's New Year's Eve, and he just wanted a fireworks display. We _are_ on an island, away from civilization."

"Raphael, I am aware of where we are. I am also aware that I have _forbidden_ him from setting off fireworks from inside this building or on the temple grounds; whether he gets excited or not is not relevant at this point," said Dartz dangerously. "How did he manage to procure more fireworks?"

"To be honest, I don't know," said Gurimo. "Maybe they were leftovers from this past July. Who knows how that reprobate does anything?"

An ominous silence followed that statement.

"Master Dartz…before you punish Valon for anything, I think you should know something about this situation," said Raphael hesitantly, breaking the silence first.

Dartz looked at him pointedly, waiting for an explanation. Raphael exchanged a quick glance with Alister before he cleared his throat and said, "Under normal circumstances, Valon would follow your command and not do this again, especially after what happened this past summer involving fireworks."

"And these circumstances are not normal?" asked Dartz. "I already said that regardless of his emotions—"

"I know that, Master Dartz. We all do. But…Valon isn't quite…he doesn't have all of his faculties at the moment," said Raphael awkwardly.

"What does that mean?" asked Dartz after a long silence.

"Well…he, ah…that is…"

By now, Raphael looked definitely uncomfortable, avoiding Dartz's gaze. Alister was also avoiding looking at Dartz, but Gurimo seemed to be just as confused at Raphael's discomfort as the Atlantean was.

Dartz was about to ask Raphael further about this new matter when a loud and drunken voice began to sing in an unintelligible tone, followed by a crash from outside the room; judging by the sound of things, it seemed that whoever it was had walked straight into a suit of armor.

"_Auld Lang Syne_," said Alister thoughtfully. "I didn't think he knew that one…but then again it is New Year's. It makes sense."

Raphael immediately disappeared through the doorway before Dartz could call him back. A few moments later the small group could hear Raphael's voice saying something to whoever had fallen, though they couldn't make out the words.

A loud hiccup carried down the hall and a slurred voice said loudly, "I's bloomin' New Year's Eve. I'm not goin' t' cel'brate it hidin' up in m' room like Al'ster does. Speakin' o' which…didja know 'is 'ead looks like a mushroom?"

Alister rolled his eyes and ruffled his drying hair. "My head does NOT look like a mushroom."

"Wait a minute, Alister—please explain to me what's going on. Is that Valon down the hall?" asked Dartz, trying to make sense of things.

A random burst of laughter echoed down the hall, followed by another loud chorus of song. Alister sighed, then walked to the doorway. "I better go help Raphael."

"_Alister._"

The redhead sighed again and looked to Dartz. "There really isn't a better way to put this: someone spiked the sugar cookies we bought a couple of days ago for tomorrow's New Year's Day party—all twenty of them, thanks to the economy sized package—with rum icing and Valon ate them all."

"…Are you telling me that Valon is…?"

"Sloshed, on happy hour, stone_ drunk_?" supplied Alister. "He is. Please direct all questions about the spiked cookies to Gurimo. I need to go help Raphael, as he so quaintly pointed out, control him."

With that parting statement, Alister left the room. Dartz turned to an incredulous looking Gurimo and raised an eyebrow silently at him, waiting for an explanation.

"Master Dartz, I can assure you that those cookies were meant for the older employees of our corporation. That punk wasn't supposed to get a hold of those at all!" spluttered Gurimo. "I made the icing, certainly, but that hooligan was the one who _ate_ them!"

Dartz pinched the bridge of his nose and asked wearily, "Did you mark those cookies with some kind of warning? You know as well as I do that Valon will eat just about anything unless marked otherwise."

There was no reply.

* * *

Down the hall, Raphael and Alister were steadying a very tipsy teenager as they slowly made their way back up the stairs to the residential part of the temple. Their progress was hindered by Valon, who could not walk in a straight line to save his life and nearly fell down the stairs (almost taking them with him in the process).

Roughly two hours ago, Valon had complained of being hungry and had decided to go get some food from the kitchen; had Raphael or Alister known that the teen would choose to eat food that contained alcohol, they would have stopped him. As it was, by the time they had realized what had happened it was too late.

Raphael had taken the boy straight to his room, but when Dartz had called them he had ordered the Australian to stay in the room. Again, if he had known that Valon had a stash of fireworks in the bedroom he wouldn't have left the teen alone.

At least this time Valon had launched the fireworks mostly outside. Only a couple had broken into the room, though it had been enough to set off the fire alarm.

"Whose bright idea was it to make innocent sugar cookies alcoholic?" snapped Alister, keeping an iron grip on Valon's arm.

Raphael also kept a firm grip on the teenager's other arm as he continued to walk up the stairs. "It's too late now to worry about that. All we can do now is make sure he doesn't hurt himself until he crashes," he replied.

Valon looked up at his friends with unfocused eyes and hiccupped loudly once again. "'Appy New Year, fellas!" he said drunkenly, swaying violently where he stood.

Alister growled in annoyance as Valon fell back against him. "Should I tell him that Mai saw him acting like this when he sobers?" he asked.

Raphael's brow furrowed in confusion. "Mai isn't even here, Alist—don't torment Valon like that. Mai's out on a mission right now."

"He doesn't need to know that. The alcohol kicked in right about the time Mai left."

"Alister…"

"All right, all right. I won't do anything to him."

Raphael sighed, noticing with relief that they were almost at the top of the stairs. The sooner they got Valon to stay in his room, the better.

"At least one good thing came out of this," Alister said abruptly, making the blonde look over at him.

"And that would be…?"

"Gurimo has to take the heat for Valon's actions this time."


	20. Dentists: A Person's Worst Nightmare

_Well, this one was bound to happen eventually. No translations are here this time (you'll figure out what I mean in a bit), but it should be fairly easy to understand._

_Post DOOM once again (can be read as a sequel to 'Happy Halloween!), and death to ALL dentists._

_...unless one of you readers has a dentist in the family._

* * *

He was not going to panic.

_You've stared death down b'fore…f'r 'eaven's sake, you sorta helped save the world. This isn' tha' bad, _he reminded himself nervously. He forced himself to ignore the sounds in the background, instead glancing around the room and fidgeting in his seat.

The place that Valon was currently sitting in?

The waiting room of a dentist's office.

The teen was being forced to sit in here by both Raphael and Alister—though Valon had tried to hide it, his older friends had picked up on the fact that the Australian had only been chewing on one side of his mouth. They had promptly sent him to the dentist, and they had dropped the teen off at the office via car, preventing the boy from simply skipping the appointment. In addition, they had confiscated the boy's motorcycle key until he went to the dentist's office; if Valon tried to leave, Alister said, then they could take away Valon's only means of transportation.

Valon cringed at what he could hear (seriously, what kind of nutter played such soothing background music in such a horrendous place?) and instead chose to observe his surroundings curiously; maybe if he was lucky, he could forget about where he was.

Two seats down from him, there was an elderly man who would regularly fiddle with his dentures; across from him, a tired looking mother was comforting her two upset children—and Valon could not blame them for being frightened, considering where they were.

He should make a break for it…now, while the nurse wasn't looking…he could always walk home, or maybe he could hail a taxi. How much money did he have? He dug into his pocket to pull out his wallet.

At that point, however, the nurse called out for Valon and the brunette winced. "Sounds like I'm up," he said sullenly under his breath.

Nonetheless, he rose to his feet and stiffly marched past the nurse. He was not afraid, he was not afraid, he was NOT AFRAID…

Who was he kidding? Valon was scared witless.

The nurse cheerfully lead him into a clean smelling office and sat him in the chair. Valon began to mentally count how many ways that this particular woman could die after she announced that the dentist would be in shortly.

_C'mon, mate…what'm I so scared for? If this was Raph or Alister, they'd be perfectly calm and collected. Surely they wouldn' be all scared of some bloke with a drill and who would be pokin' at their mouths with needles and sharp tools and—_

Valon suddenly had a mental image of a man obscured in shadow, grinning wickedly and holding up a huge gleaming drill up to his face. The teen quickly barred the horrifying thought from his mind. He was exxagerating, there was nothing to be afraid of here…

There was a knock on the door and a middle-aged man with sandy hair entered the room. He had a clipboard in his hands, and his nametag—appropriately—read Dr. Paine.

"Well now, Valon. I think this is the first time that I have seen you here in my office. How are you doing today?" he asked, setting up a few tools on the nearby table.

Valon chose not to answer. He would _not, _under any circumstance, fraternize with this fiend.

The dentist shrugged, clipping a paper bib around his patient's neck and putting on a surgical mask. "Now, my boy, just relax. We'll get your teeth cleaned and shiny again. Let me see these X-Rays so I can see what we have to do today…"

The doctor lifted the translucent paper and studied it intently for a few minutes. During that time, Valon began plotting his escape. It wasn't too late to run, he could just make a break for it; this doctor would not be able to hold him here, it would be easy to knock him over and flee.

He thought about it for a moment, then heaved a heavy sigh. He could try to escape, but all that would accomplish would be having Raphael or Alister (possibly both) escort him right back here and make certain he sat through it.

In other words, escape was out of the question.

Dr. Paine finished examining the X-Rays and reached for his instruments. He tipped the chair Valon was sitting in back and looked down at his victim—patient. Valon could swear that the man was _smiling_ at him through the surgical mask.

"Say 'aah,'" said the man cheerily.

Valon wished the man a very slow and painful death as he cautiously opened his mouth.

* * *

Ninety minutes later, he had a mouth full of Novocain and two brand new fillings. He also had stern orders to brush his teeth and to floss. Did the trio even HAVE dental floss? He hadn't even seen it in the bathroom, and he walked in there every morning. Besides, at the moment he was completely annoyed with the dentist and not in a compliant mood. He sullenly took the dentist goody bag (as if THAT was supposed to make him feel better) and left the building.

Raphael and Alister were waiting patiently in the car, Alister reading some kind of book and Raphael watching the teenager walk to them. The redhead looked up as Valon opened the rear door and slid into the back seat, rubbing at his numb jaw.

"So how was it? A regular barrel of laughs, I bet," said Alister, setting his book down and turning in the passenger's seat to face him.

"Ah ha'e 'ou bot'," Valon retorted sulkily. "It 'as tortcha."

"What was that?" Alister asked, cupping his ear and even tilting his head. "I didn't understand you."

"Tortcha! Painfoo!"

Raphael seemed to be fighting to keep the amusement off his face, while Alister openly laughed at the Australian's inability to speak proper English.

"I told you this would happen if you didn't floss and brush your teeth, Valon. Can't say I didn't warn you," said the blonde, managing to bottle up his laughter.

Valon glared at him. "Th's's r'venge f'r Ap'il Foo's Day, is'nit?" he asked, kicking Alister's seat when the older man continued to laugh.

Raphael arched an eyebrow. "You were supposed to do this already, regardless of April Fool's Day…but if it makes you feel better, then you could call this revenge."

Valon crossed his arms and slid down in his seat, hunching his shoulders like an offended child. "Sha up an' dwive," he muttered, ignoring Alister's muffled laughter.


	21. The Flu Strikes Again

_Eventually, we all knew this one would also happen. __It was just a matter of time._

_Before we advance, please remember to vote on my poll. It's kinda important..._

_Post DOOM, sequel shot to "Silence" and "No One Likes The Flu."_

* * *

He felt positively _awful._

Beyond the shadow of a doubt, he felt ill. He could hear his alarm clock going off, and he knew that he had to go to work, but he could not seem to muster the energy to even lift his arm up to turn it off. He could not even move without some part of his body aching in protest.

His alarm abruptly cut off, and his room was silent once more. That was a good thing—the beeping sound had been like a hammer that was pounding mercilessly into his skull and at the moment the silence was a welcome reprieve.

He tiredly opened his eyes to try and focus on the clock, blinking rapidly to dispel the blurriness in his vision. It didn't clear, and his vision dipped and spun in sickening waves, making him close his eyes again. He tried again but got the same results, so he gave up instead and pulled the covers back over him.

Sometime later, because his sense of time was horribly off kilter, he felt someone's hand on his shoulder gently shaking him back to consciousness. He opened his eyes again and noticed what appeared to be a face, but his vision was distorted badly and he was barely able to realize who it was.

"You've got what we had, don't you?" asked a familiar voice, a cold hand brushing over his forehead.

He tried to reply, but the scorching pain in his throat wouldn't even allow him to talk, so instead he nodded miserably.

"Do you think you can get out of bed?"

Another nod, followed by a cough, was the best answer he could give.

"I'll be back in a minute," said the owner of the voice, and then the figure in his vision left the room.

With an effort, he made himself get out of the bed and stumble blearily to the closet. It was agony to even try and walk, but he made himself focus on the closet door; he was cold, yes, but if he could just grasp that thought in the back of his mind he would understand why.

He wasn't a morning person to begin with, but that fact was made worse when Raphael got sick.

* * *

"'e's WHAT?!"

"Sick, incapacitated, feeling under the weather, ill…I could go on if you want," said Alister flatly, watching Valon sit up in bed. "I think he has what we just got over."

The Australian looked back at Alister, his brown hair even more wild looking than normal. "'ow do you know 'e's sick anyhow?"

"Simple. He didn't come downstairs and I heard his alarm go off ten minutes ago," said Alister curtly. "Besides, I went into his room. He's burning up."

Valon winced. "Poor fella."

"Yes, and the sooner we get him to a doctor the better. If he has the flu, we need to nip it in the bud before it gets worse. Valon, after you get dressed could you please go make sure that Raphael gets to the car all right? I need to call his job and let them know he isn't coming into work."

The teenager nodded, waiting until the redhead had left the room before going to his closet and pulling out a black hoodie and a pair of jeans. He pulled the clothing on, making sure that his customary goggles were in place before he left his room; Valon didn't bother trying to straighten his hair, since it was early morning anyway. He finished dressing, padding out of his room and down the hall to where Raphael's room was. He knocked once on the closed door before he opened it and slipped into the room.

His older friend had gotten fully dressed, but it had apparently used all the energy he had left in him. He currently was lying on his side on the mattress, seemingly dozing, but he definitely looked ill. There were dark circles under his eyes and his face had an unhealthy flush to it.

"Raph?" asked Valon, tentatively poking the blonde man. "Hey, mate, you all righ'?"

One of Raphael's eyes opened blearily, looking up at him. "Not really," he muttered, coughing. "Feel awful."

The blonde man carefully eased himself off of the mattress and got to his feet, swaying unsteadily where he stood before he sank back down on the edge of the bed. "Can't even stand straight," he said hoarsely.

Valon watched the older biker with concern, moving to the bed after a moment's pause. "'ere, chum," he said, offering his hand to Raphael. "Lemme 'elp ya up."

Raphael took the boy's hand and once more rose to his feet. Though he wobbled violently, he was able to stay standing, though it was apparent that the older man would be better off sitting down. Slowly, he began to walk forward, keeping Valon on one side and the wall on the other. Valon kept close to his friend, ready to support him if needed, but otherwise he let the older man walk alone.

They got out to the hallway, where the rest of their progress was observed by Misa. The feline meowed encouragingly, keeping out from underfoot but keeping up with both of the bikers. The stairs were a little tricky to navigate, since Raphael could not seem to keep straight and nearly fell several times, but in the end the two of them made it to the bottom of the stairs without injury.

A tired but amused smile appeared on Raphael's face. "It figures."

Valon looked up at his taller friend. "What does?"

"I don't get sick when you two do, but right after you both get healthy I catch the flu," he said, speaking the first whole sentence that Valon had heard all morning.

"'m sorry, Raph. I got ya sick…" said Valon hesitantly, but Raphael shook his head.

"I thought we established this already. Not your fault. If anything, you and Alister both gave it to me," said Raphael wearily. The blonde said nothing else after that, but he was able to make it out to the car and into the passenger's seat before he closed his eyes tiredly and dozed off.

Alister slipped out the front door, locking it behind him before walking out to the car. He noticed Valon coming around the other side of the vehicle. "Did he get in all right?" he asked, standing near the driver's door.

"Yeah, but 'e's asleep again," said Valon sympathetically. "He looks righ' awful."

"If Raphael has what we did, I wouldn't doubt that."

"Why do you keep sayin' 'if'?"

"Because Raphael gets sick at the drop of a hat. For all we know, he could have a bad cold," said Alister flatly, but his gray eyes flickered as they looked at where Raphael was sitting in the car.

The two bikers got into the vehicle after that, and Alister started up the car, backing out of the driveway. It wasn't until they were halfway to the regional clinic when Alister chuckled quietly. "I just realized something."

"What?" asked Valon, and even Raphael woke up long enough to look at the red-haired man.

"'If one catches it, the rest are soon to follow.' There's some validity behind that statement."


	22. Of Legs and Clothes Shopping

_Request for my unofficial beta, Lycan Phoenix!_

_This one is set during DOOM, and their ages are the same as they were when they visited the zoo (for those too lazy to go back to chapter 4, Raphael's 21, Alister is 17, and Valon is around 14.)_

_Also remember to go vote on my poll, please._

* * *

"RAPH! IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT'S PURE 'N' HOLY, SAVE ME!!!"

Raphael, who had finished his lunch and was just coming out of the kitchen, had a distinct impression of a blur that he suspected was Valon before it dove at his feet and clung onto his leg desperately. The blonde man blinked in surprise before he looked down at the teenager currently affixed to his leg.

"Can I get an explanation?" he asked with a sigh, his surprise disappearing as he looked down at his younger friend.

"Gurimo's at it again, mate! 'e's the Devil Incarnate! I SWEAR 'e is!" cried Valon, his grip tightening painfully around the blonde's leg.

"…As scary as that is, could you do me a favor and let go of my leg?"

"What's going on now?" came Alister's voice, and a moment later the redhead's face was looking at them from around the family room door. His gray eyes landed on Raphael's leg—or rather, who was attached to it—and he raised an eyebrow. "Valon, what on earth…no wait, on second thought _don't_ answer that."

"It's something about Gurimo," said Raphael, trying to lift his leg free of the brunette teen. All he managed to do was get Valon's grip shifted to his ankle. "I know that much."

"Yeah! 'e's a madman!" snapped Valon, readjusting his grip. "'e's righ' loony! I wasn' sure a' first, but now I am! 'e's a public menace!"

"Why? What happened this time?" Alister asked, coming around the door fully and leaning against the frame. Raphael wobbled dangerously due to Valon's position, but Alister offered a steadying hand and kept the blonde upright.

"Yes. Do tell. What current horror is Gurimo trying to inflict on you?" Raphael deadpanned, trying to tug his leg free from the teenager.

"The bloke's tryin' to drag me off t' do clothes shoppin'!" said Valon dramatically, keeping his grip on Raphael's leg.

Both of the older bikers exchanged looks of disbelief. "And that's bad…why?" Alister asked after a moment's pause.

"B'cause…b'cause…oh, you fellas 'ave seen th' way he dresses! It's enough o' a reason t' be scared! I'll be walkin' around 'ere like one o' those monks from Monty Python!"

"Will you be chanting too, to stay in character? If you are, I could also get a wooden board."

"Well, no, but…Raph, that's not funny."

"You've outgrown all of your clothes," said Alister flatly. "This has been coming for a long time. If I had to wager a guess as to why Gurimo is initiating this, however, I believe it would be because he had to do your laundry. Your socks alone are horrifying."

"Tha's not 'n excuse, mate! If I know tha' bloke any, 'e _delib'rately_ shrunk my clothes!" the Australian snapped, keeping his grip around Raphael's leg.

Raphael sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in exasperation. He was about to reply to the teenager when a familiar voice rang out. "There you are, you teenage reprobate!"

Raphael turned his head and noticed that Gurimo had rounded the corner. His eyes were narrowed dangerously at Valon and his arms were folded across his chest. "You are supposed to come with me now," he announced.

Valon growled angrily. "Never, you fiend!" he said, his grip around Raphael's leg getting tighter than was supposed to be possible. "You're not gettin' me withou' a fight!"

Raphael looked at Alister again before he tried to pull his leg loose from Valon. "I would very much like my leg back now," he said, succeeding at last in freeing himself from the Australian.

The teenager looked up at Raphael with a horrified expression. "Traitor!"

Gurimo stepped forward and grabbed the boy by the ankle. "Come along now," he said firmly, beginning to drag Valon along the floor.

Alister frowned. "You aren't going to bother pulling him to his feet?"

"No. That's how he got away last time," Gurimo grunted, continuing to drag him along the floor.

As Gurimo reached the kitchen, however, Valon's grip instantly shifted to the doorframe. "NO! 'm perfectly capable of buyin' my own clothes, Kuriboh!" he cried, his knuckles turning white from gripping the doorframe as tight as he could.

"You are not! You don't even have your motorcycle license, and my name is NOT Kuriboh!" said Gurimo irritably, tugging on Valon's ankle. "Now let…GO!"

"NEVER!"

Alister and Raphael were at a loss, unsure of whether to laugh at the sight in front of them or to help Valon get away from Gurimo. At length, the redhead looked to Raphael and asked, "Don't you have your driver's license?"

"I do," replied Raphael slowly. "And I suppose you're about to suggest that I take him shopping."

"That would be nice. For all we know, Gurimo could shove Valon out of the car as he's going along the freeway."

"...You really don't trust Gurimo, do you?"

Nonetheless, Raphael shook his head in exasperation and turned toward his bedroom. "Please make sure that Valon does not hurt himself. I have to get my car keys," the blonde said in resignation.


	23. Monsters In The Curtains

_Hee...I had fun writing this one._

_Long live America's Funniest Home Videos for the inspiration, post DOOM, and sequel to "April Fools."_

* * *

"Wait a minute, ya want me t' do wha' now?"

Raphael sighed, gripping the teenager's upper arm firmly and steering him toward the window. "I need you to stay right here at the window. This light," he said, pointing up at the ceiling light in the family room, "has been acting up and I need to go out to the fusebox. I'll leave the garage door open, and I need you to yell 'now' when the light turns on."

Valon frowned. "Why not 'ave Alister do this? 'e's good a' this sort of thing."

Raphael shook his head. "That's the thing. I can't figure out where he went."

The Australian gave the blonde a baffled look. "You try his cell phone?"

"Actually, I have. He isn't picking it up," said Raphael. "And I looked in his room just a few minutes ago—he isn't there either."

"Is 'is motorbike in the driveway?" asked Valon, heading to the window and then frowned as he suddenly noticed a heavy curtain hanging in the way of the window seat.

Raphael shook his head quickly, keeping his grip on Valon's arm. "I already checked that, too. All I know for a fact is that he's gone off somewhere."

"Ah, well that figures. We're not gonna see 'im f'r another few 'ours 'r so," muttered Valon. "So, all I gotta do is stand 'ere and say 'now'?"

"Yes, but make sure that you yell it really loud, because I will be out in the garage. Where you're standing is the best position to call to me, so don't move" said Raphael, turning quickly and leaving the room. Unless it was Valon's imagination, however, the older man seemed to be secretly amused about something.

Valon sighed, sitting cross-legged on the ground and cupping his chin in his hand. He wondered idly where Alister had disappeared off to this time; he knew that the redhead didn't have to go to the family center today, and they had plenty of food in the pantry. Maybe he'd gone to the local library to get more books. Honestly, either Raphael or Alister could sit in that library for hours and they wouldn't get bored.

He looked up at the light and watched it. Raphael was going to need him to call out in a second; he'd just heard the garage door open, and it would only be a matter of time before his elder friend would find the fusebox. He waited impatiently, watching the light fixture.

He remembered the curtain and looked back at the concealed window seat with a curious look. He couldn't remember when the drapery had been installed, and he couldn't come up with an occasion as to why it would be there now.

At that point, the light flickered to life, and Valon got to his feet. "Raph, now!" he called.

The curtain rustled from behind him, and the teenager half-turned in confusion. "Wha' the 'eck is—?"

A horrendously disfigured face peered out from the gap in the curtains, an unintelligible sound issuing from it and it leapt out at the Australian. It was clothed in dark and shredded robes, and it lunged at the boy once again.

"What in—RAPH!!! HEEEELP!!!!"

Valon ran from the room in sheer terror, fleeing all the way out into the hallway and making a break for the garage. The creature blocked his path, lunging at him again, and Valon let out a yell of terror.

"RAAAAAAAPH!!! THERE'S A WICKED SCARY MONSTER IN THE 'OUSE!!!"

As the teen fled through the downstairs, he realized that he hadn't heard anything from his older companion. Certainly Raphael would have come running if he heard Valon yelling for him, especially since the teen was practically screaming in terror; maybe something had happened to him while he was in the garage.

Valon was about halfway to the garage (for the third time, since the monster kept chasing him in circles) before he heard familiar booming laughter coming from the doorway of the family room and he stopped running altogether to face it, ignoring the monster as he looked for the source of the laughter.

Raphael had a hand on the doorframe to keep standing, almost doubled over with laughter. He noticed that Valon had stopped running and was now facing him with his hands on his hips and a scowl on his face, but all that did was make the blonde laugh harder.

"Wha' th' bloody devil 'r' ya laughin' for?" said Valon indignantly. "'m bein' chased by a bloodthirsty monster, 'ere, an' you're laughin' at—GAH!"

The monster had taken advantage of the distraction, setting its hand on the boy's shoulder and keeping a good grip. But even as Valon yanked away from it and took refuge behind Raphael, the monster also started chuckling and lifted a hand to its face. It pulled its face away and tossed it carelessly at Valon, who yelped and fell over backward to avoid it.

"Oh please, Valon. It's just a mask."

The teenager blinked, holding the rubber mask in his hands before looking up at a familiar redhead. "What the…Alister?!" he said in bewilderment, looking at his older companions in disbelief. "Wha' in tarnation's goin' on 'round 'ere?"

"Revenge," said Alister promptly, pulling the dark robe off of him.

"Revenge? For what? Wha' did I…Oh c'mon. You still can' be mad a' me for April Fools Day, can ya? I thought that the dentist was revenge f'r that!"

"What I said was that you could _think _of the dentist as being revenge if it made you feel better. I never said that it definitively was what we were planning," said Raphael in amusement.

Valon looked at both of his older companions for a moment longer before he scowled and folded his arms. "You blokes 'r' bloody _evil_."

This just made both Raphael and Alister burst into laughter once again.


	24. Regrets

_This one…I can't really explain where it came from. It's shorter than the other ones, but then again I think it's better this way._

_This one-shot is Valon's official Baby Book Special, and can be read as a prequel to "Come Back."_

_Tissue warning: this one is guaranteed to make people cry._

_It made me cry while I was typing it._

* * *

There were so many things she regretted.

She regretted not listening to her parents and her friends and going out with him. She regretted that one night where she threw caution to the wind and gave _him_ her precious gift.

She regretted dropping out of high school and not getting her diploma.

She regretted telling her parents about that night, and then asking them what she should do.

She regretted telling him of all people about what had happened in result of that night. She regretted as well that the man had not stayed by her.

She regretted that her parents had not been more understanding and had kicked her out into the streets to fend for herself.

She regretted choosing to live with one of the few friends who had grudgingly let her in.

She regretted that she hadn't been able to keep on nourishing herself, especially now because of the life inside her needed every ounce of help she could give it.

She regretted that she was not able to support herself and had to mooch off of her friend and her boyfriend in that small house, when they themselves could barely keep themselves alive.

She regretted that there was nothing she could do about her situation.

She regretted that things had turned out this way, and that now she was dying and leaving behind a life that would never know a mother or father.

But if there was one thing that she could not regret, it was that she had carried that baby boy inside of her in spite of everything and had brought him into the world. She would not exchange that for anything.

She smiled at the squalling baby, holding him close to her and feeling a weary sort of triumph course through her. To her relief, the boy had inherited nothing of his father's appearance; everything, even down to the fluffy bangs, belonged solely to his mother.

She could hear the nurses and the doctors talking quietly with her friend outside, and she knew that she was the only one out there—her parents had made it clear that she no longer existed in their family, and that was fine by her.

It had been established already. She had known that this moment would be the end for her, so she had made arrangements with her friend that her son would live with them. It had taken a lot of convincing, but they had both agreed in the end.

She felt overly tired, and her eyelids were heavy. She needed to name her son…it was the only thing that she could give him. There was no money, no inheritance, no nothing—all she could give him was his name.

"You poor thing," she murmured, shifting her position as her son looked up at her with cerulean eyes. "You aren't going to see me again after this, and I'm right sorry I can't stay with you."

She fought against the sleepiness with every ounce of her strength, because she knew that her son needed her for just a little longer. She looked down at him with a forlorn smile. "Your name is Valon," she said quietly, noticing that one of the nurses was there. The older woman seemed to write it down on a clipboard, and that was good as well. Her son had at least a name.

"I read somewhere a long time ago that your name meant, 'strong warrior,'" she continued softly. "You're going to have to be strong, because this world will kill you if you let it."

The baby's tears ceased as he gazed up at her, and for one heart-stopping moment she wondered if perhaps her child understood her, if he had connected with her and understood the road that lay ahead of him. But that look soon vanished and he drifted off to sleep.

The nurse took her son from her, and she watched the tiny bundle leave her sight with a mixture of forlornness and sadness; she knew that she would never see her son again.

As her eyes drifted closed for the final time, she silently uttered one final prayer, one that she hoped would be heard.

_Please…let my son find where he belongs…let him find people who will care for him the way that I can't…please..._

Years later, her unspoken prayer was answered.


	25. Hooked On Phonics

_Blame this one on one of the older "Hooked on Phonics" commercials._

_This one is set during DOOM, and our bikers are actually a year younger than they are in previous DOOM chapters (Valon's 13, Raphael is 20, and Alister is 16). _

_Don't worry if you can't see that this has been updated—FanFiction's alert system is down yet again._

* * *

"Whatcha doin', Raph?"

The blonde blinked, looking up at the teenager in surprise. He had been deeply immersed in his book, and he hadn't even heard Valon come into the room; he was reading one of his more favorite novels since he had the afternoon off as a break. The blonde, remembering the question, held up his book for Valon to see the cover. "I'm reading a book. It's pretty good," he replied conversationally.

The brunette frowned, staring at the cover. "Wha's it called?" he asked.

Raphael gave him a perplexed look. The title on the book was big enough for the Australian to see, so there shouldn't be a problem in reading it. Then again, the younger biker was across the room; maybe he couldn't see the title from where he was. After a moment of debate, Raphael bookmarked his page and tossed the book to the teen. "The title's on the front," he explained.

Valon caught the book and looked down at it. The teenager actually tilted his head as he stared intently at the book, biting his lip and looking down at the book with a furrowed brow. Raphael watched the boy silently mouth words as he stared at the book, and the brunette continued to give the book a baffled gaze.

After watching Valon for some time, something inwardly clicked and Raphael realized why the Australian looked so lost.

"Valon, can you read?" asked the blonde carefully, not wanting to offend the boy but also wanting to know the answer to his question.

The other teen stiffened, looking anxiously at the older man. Had this been anyone else (like Alister, who the teen did not get along with all that well), Valon would not have even acknowledged the question. But this was Raphael, who was much friendlier to Valon than everyone else was and who also humored a lot of his "mundane" questions. Therefore, the teen felt slightly more comfortable in answering the question.

"…No. On the streets, I never really bothered t' learn. I figured that I wouldn' need t' learn m' letters if I could just punch m' way through things," replied Valon at last, squirming uncomfortably under Raphael's steady gaze.

Raphael looked at the teen wordlessly for a moment before he rose from the chair. "Wait here," he said simply, leaving the room.

Valon wondered if Raphael was mad at him for something, though he couldn't imagine why the blonde would be angry. All Valon had said was that he didn't know how to read…perhaps his older companion was offended that Valon was not literate? No, that didn't seem right; Raphael wasn't that stingy to begin with. That seemed something that Kuriboh-Gurimo would do, not Raphael.

He looked up as the blonde re-entered the room, carrying with him a notepad and a couple of pencils. He set those on the coffee table before looking up at the brunette with ice-blue eyes. "Come on over here," said Raphael, gesturing to a spot on the sofa.

Valon cautiously stepped forward, sitting down and staring at the notebook quizzically. "Wha's this?" he asked.

Raphael opened the notebook to a blank page before he wrote a big letter 'A' and a little letter 'a'. "Can you copy both of those?" he requested, handing a pencil to Valon.

The Australian frowned for a few minutes at the blonde before his stormy expression cleared and he realized what Raphael was doing. "You're gonna teach me m' letters?" he asked in surprise.

Raphael shrugged. "Why not? Everyone needs to at least know the alphabet; certainly, it would be helpful that you knew how to read if we give you written directions or if Master Dartz gave you written instructions."

"You don' 'ave t' do that, mate. This's your afternoon off," began Valon in protest.

Raphael shrugged and gestured to his book. "I've read that three times before. I just like rereading books to catch things I didn't notice the first couple times," he said simply.

Valon looked at the older man for a moment longer before he hesitantly picked up the other pencil. Painstakingly, he copied the letters that Raphael had written on the page. His handwriting was wobbly and shaky, since he was unfamiliar with what he was doing, but he nonetheless copied the letters.

"All right, that's the letter 'A'," said Raphael instructionally. "It's the first letter of the alphabet, and it can have several different sounds to it depending on the word you use."

Noticing the lost expression on Valon's face, he said with a hint of amusement, "Don't worry. We'll get to that point eventually."

He then picked up his pencil again and wrote 'B' and 'b' on the page. "Now copy this one."

They continued in this manner until they got to the letter 'J', at which point Valon asked, "Am I goin' t' learn 'ow to write m' name?"

Raphael paused at the simple question, looking over at the boy. He noted the rather hopeful gleam in the Australian's eyes. He nodded, his own expression softening as he looked back at Valon. "Of course."

"And…your name, too? As well as Alister's?"

"If you want to," replied Raphael with some surprise, since Valon and Alister got along about as well as oil and water did.

Valon grinned widely at the blonde, but said nothing further as he once again copied the letters on the page. His handwriting, though rather shaky still, was steadily getting better. "This's better than goin' t' school," said Valon after another moment of silence.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I don' 'ave t' worry 'bout any detentions or 'omework, and you aren' laughin' at me for not knowin' 'ow to read."

Raphael looked over at Valon once again. "Why would I laugh at you for that?"

"It's kinda embarrassin' t' not know 'ow to read…" Valon trailed off uncomfortably.

"Don't worry about that now. By the time I'm done with you, you'll be able to read better than you were before," replied Raphael kindly, understanding Valon's discomfort about admitting that fact.

The rest of the afternoon passed in amicable silence, punctuated only when Raphael would explain what he had written and Valon dutifully repeating it.

"'ey, Raph?" asked Valon as the two of them stood up to go to dinner.

The blonde looked over at Valon. "Yeah?"

"Would it be too much if…er, if I, uh, if…ah bloody 'eck…"

"Yes, Valon. I'll do this again with you if you want me to," replied Raphael with mild amusement. "I don't mind."

The teen gave a sheepish grin, nonetheless following after the older man. "Thanks, mate," he said, cuffing the blonde's shoulder lightly.

Raphael didn't reply, but Valon spotted the smile and understood the silent, "You're welcome."


	26. Happy Birthday, Alister!

_First of three requests for Alister's Girlfriend!_

_Normally, I would have done this all as one request (and on the day it's supposed to be instead of uber early), but in honor of the fact that Alister's Girlfriend wrote two requests for me I decided to write all three of the biker's birthdays as separate titles._

_...Plus, my computer tried to kill this file. I post this now so I don't lose it later._

_This one is set post-DOOM, and a happy (very early—you'll understand why after you read this) birthday to Alister!_

* * *

"Aw c'mon…"

"No."

"Pleaaase?"

"Double no."

"I'll do your chores f'r a week!"

"Tempting, but still no."

"I'll tell ya mine!"

"May 22. That's the day Mother Mary found you, and you use it as your birthday because you don't know when it really is. You've told me before."

"…That's b'side the point. You 'aven' told anyone yours."

"And nor will I ever feel inclined to do so. Why don't you go ask Raphael when his birthday is?"

"Because 'e's a' work and 'e'd tell me righ' off the bat anyway. You're 'arder t' figure out."

"Thank you for using me as your form of entertainment."

"You're welcome."

"I was being sarcastic."

"So w's I, chum."

"…Sarcasm aside, I still say no."

Valon looked over at Alister, crossing his arms and glaring at the redhead. "What's so bloody bad 'bout your birthday?"

"Not going to answer that one," replied Alister calmly, never looking up from his book (it was the one that Valon had gotten him for Christmas, and he was quite engrossed in it).

The Australian frowned before snapping his fingers and a wide grin appeared on his face. "What if I asked ya yes 'r no questions t' find out?"

"Pass. I prefer reading my book which, oh by the way, _you _gave me."

"But I _know_ ya wanna make me look like an idiot. This's the perfect way t' do it!"

Alister looked up from his book at that comment, raising an eyebrow at the teenager. Valon frowned, running over that sentence in his mind again before he slapped a hand on his forehead. "Tha' didn' come out righ'."

"All right, I'll play. There are three hundred and sixty five days of the year, sixty-six counting leap year. The likelihood is slim that you'll guess it."

"So? I'll ask any way!"

A heavy sigh. "Fine. You have a limit of fifteen questions, and you only get one guess."

"Excellent! Now, lessee…'EY! No readin' your book while the game's goin'!"

Alister sighed again, bookmarking his place before setting his book down. "Fair enough. But if you are setting conditions, I am as well. You can't flat out ask me what season or month my birthday is."

"Tha' makes it more challengin'! So, does your birthday 'ave snow onnit?"

"It could."

"'Kay…are th' leaves still in the trees?" asked Valon thoughtfully.

"No."

"All righ', um…hm. Is it after Christmas?"

"Yes. By the way, I am not answering any more questions involving holidays," said Alister flatly.

"What?! Why not?!"

"Because that's cheating. Now, your next question?"

Valon growled in frustration, glaring at Alister.

"You know, we could just stop playing…" said Alister, reaching for his book.

Valon intercepted the book, setting it down next to him where he sat on the sofa. "No ya don'! You're not gettin' off that easy, mate!"

"Give me my book back, Valon."

"Not 'til we finish this game!"

"…Fine."

"All righ' now, so your birthday might 'ave snow onnit, and it's after Christmas…that narrows it down to winter. So then, does your birthday 'ave snowmen?" asked Valon, remembering the snowmen he and Marik had built.

"Not really. There could be a couple out there, but for the most part they aren't existent," replied Alister absently, looking out the window.

"Okay…so…is th' number of your birthday before ten?"

"Nope."

"After ten?"

"Yes."

"B'fore twen'y?"

"Yes."

"B'fore fifteen?"

"Yes."

"Is it twelve?"

"No."

"Fourteen?"

"Yes."

"HA! I 'ave th' day!"

"Yes, but you do realize you wasted six questions trying to figure it out," Alister said, holding up the number with his fingers.

"Yeah, so? Now, your birthday—does it 'ave fireworks before then?"

"No."

"Are there any 'olidays 'round your birthday?"

"I thought I said I wasn't answering that," Alister commented evenly.

A look of comprehension came over the brunette's face. "Oh, yeah…"

"For the record, that one still counts as a question. You've asked me eleven questions now—four more to go," Alister said, holding the number up with his fingers.

"But you didn' answer it!" said Valon indignantly.

The redhead rolled his eyes. "I told you I wasn't answering holiday questions. Next question?"

"...Does your birthday involve groundhogs?"

"No."

"Presidents?"

"No."

"Martin Luther King?"

"No."

"Hmmm…what 'bout leprechauns?"

"…Didn't you just say my birthday was in the winter?"

"Oh yeah…Dangit."

"Do you want to give up? You only have one question left."

"No…but I do 'ave a guess, based on what 've 'eard," said Valon thoughtfully.

"Really? And that would be…?" asked Alister, raising an expectant eyebrow.

"Is your birthday February fourteenth?"

Before the redhead could reply, the front door opened and Raphael came inside, having just returned from his job. Misa, who had been comfortably situated on Alister's lap, leapt off lightly and greeted the blonde with a loud meow, rubbing against his leg and purring.

"'ey Raph!" called Valon cheerfully, grinning. He yelped as Alister abruptly snatched his book back from where it sat on the sofa and continued on his way as he padded to the kitchen. "Alister, you—!"

"Game over, Valon," said the young man flatly.

"Wha'?! But you never said when your birthday was at, 'n' I still 'ave one more question!" spluttered Valon, folding his arms as Alister continued on his way to the staircase and began to climb them.

"Too bad, so sad," replied Alister from upstairs. The sound of his bedroom door closing came down the stairs, signaling that the other younger biker was in his room.

Raphael bent down to pick up the kitten before he looked at where Valon was sitting. "What game were you playing?" he asked.

"I was askin' 'im yes 'r no questions 'bout 'is birthday, an' I still 'ave one more question t' ask 'im!" said Valon angrily. "But now 'e's in 'is room, and I can' very well go in there when 'e's in there."

"Did you guess it?"

"No. Right as you came in, though, I guessed his birthday was on February fourteenth. I guess I wasn' right 'bout that, b'cause 'e ended the game an'—wha's so funny, Raph?" asked Valon, noticing that his older friend wore an amused expression on his face.

"Valon, if Alister ended the game the moment you were distracted it means you got the right answer. He just didn't want to admit it," said Raphael, heading into the kitchen to make dinner.

Valon stared after where Raphael had retreated into the kitchen. "Well if tha's the case why didn' 'e jus' say so?"

"I don't think he wanted you to give him a gift on his birthday," said Raphael from the kitchen. "He told me before he prefers celebrating it before or after the fourteenth, not on it."

"Wha', nothin' I get 'im will be good enough 'r somethin' like tha'?" Valon said challengingly.

"Not quite like that. February fourteenth is Valentine's Day."

"Tha' doesn' 'ave to do with any…oh."


	27. Rescue

_Someone PLEASE invent a GPS that tracks down plot bunnies, because I want to know where mine come from._

_This one is set in Raphael's past, and don't ask where this came from._

* * *

Honestly, he had no clue what to do.

Captain Albert Kincaid was one of the best cargo ship captains in France. His ship, the _Gerarde, _had encountered many challenges on the sea during his lifetime. He'd delivered all sorts of cargo to varying ports, and he knew all the trade routes of the sea. He could look at the sky and tell when a squall was coming, how fast it would come, and what time it would hit. He was prepared for anything...

Except for this.

Kincaid had been forced off his course to avoid a storm that would damage their cargo, only to find himself off the coast of an uncharted island. Initially surprised, he began re-reading his maps; surely he would be able to find out where they were. He had started searching his charts early in the morning, just as the sun was beginning to rise but had found nothing.

After poring over his maps, he decided that the best way to get back to France was to map a new route based on where they were. The location on the map was tentatively identified, but it was way off course from the main route and he would have to use his maps to get home. It wasn't difficult, but it certainly was a nuisance.

He sighed loudly, taking off his captain's cap and running a hand through his cropped brown hair. The breeze picked up again at that moment, bringing up the salty smell of the ocean. He never grew tired of the sea; he had been born on it and he knew it better than anyone. He knew he had to go back to work, so he turned around to head back into the cabin. Kincaid took one last look out at the sea, but stopped and squinted at the water's surface.

What was that there, in the distance?

It looked almost like a raft...yes, that was what it was. A crudely built raft was drifting through the waves. But what was on its surface? Kincaid frowned, shielding his eyes from the sunlight as he looked at it. It looked almost like...

_There was someone on the raft. _

The figure seemed to be unconscious, looking from here; he could see no visible movement on the raft. Was the person even _alive_?

Enough of that thought, though. He needed to rescue the young man before—

Too late.

Even as he watched, the motionless figure slipped off of the wooden surface and underneath the waves. He thought for just a moment that he saw one of his hands try to hang on to the log, but then he was gone and Kincaid was calling out orders for his crew to head out. In less than five minutes, three members of his crew, along with Kincaid himself, were en route to the site of the raft.

As they came up on the floating raft, Kincaid saw the figure resurface again, coughing and sputtering as he draped his arms around the log's circumference before slumping again; the chance of him slipping underwater again was high. Kincaid urged his crew to row faster.

They came alongside of the raft, and Kincaid reached out to secure the lifeboat to the wooden planks; he noted that the other craft had been made with tree trunks and he wondered how on earth that this person had managed it. It was really no more than two logs strung together and held in place by a third log in the middle, bound by vines, and Kincaid had some difficulty balancing on it. In the end, he had no choice but to slip into the water and inch his way forward.

The figure had slightly stirred but did not move otherwise when the crew took hold of the raft he was on. Kincaid feared that whoever was clinging to the raft might be injured, and he hurried as best as he could to reach him. When at last he arrived at the body, he carefully wrapped one of his own arms around the unconscious figure's torso, realizing as he did that this was only a boy—most likely no older than his son.

He inched his way back to his crew with a little more difficulty but was able to get into the boat with the limp figure in his arms.

"Head back for the ship," he ordered tersely, reaching for one of the blankets kept in the lifeboat and wrapping the boy securely in it. As he did so, the teen stirred, blinking in the sunlight bemusedly. When he saw the lifeboat full of men, he blanched and scrambled away to the end of the boat, clutching the blanket close to him and staring disbelievingly at them.

"Captain?" asked one of the crew, watching the teenager with bewilderment. "Wha—?"

"Keep rowing," ordered Kincaid firmly, his eyes never leaving the huddled figure in the blanket. "Head back to the ship, and ignore the boy for the moment."

Honestly, he did not blame the youth for his fear of them—after being alone for so long on an island (and Kincaid knew the boy had been there because, frankly, there was no other logical explanation), it was to be expected.

When they arrived at the ship, all but Kincaid left the boat. "Let me speak to the boy," he said quietly. "I'll be up with him as soon as I can."

Kincaid waited until all the men were out of sight before returning his attention to the teen. He rose to his feet, keeping his hands in the air to demonstrate that he meant no harm as he advanced towards the other young man. Apparently, the teen realized that Kincaid meant no harm, because the lanky body shifted closer to the captain. He looked up at him from a sitting position, his eyes wary and his face quiet.

Kincaid eyed his new passenger, taking in his appearance. It was quite obvious that the youth had resided on the island for some time, for his clothes were torn and ragged. The boy had long, tangled blonde hair that fell to just the top of his elbows. The teen's broad-shouldered body was tan, marked with miniscule to moderate scars that showed his time on the island. His hands, though large, were not beefy; in fact, the other figure was lean and his body had the beginnings of very well-developed muscles.

But it was his eyes that captivated the older captain.

They were in stark contrast to the rest of his tanned and rugged appearance; Kincaid had expected to see them a brown or russet color. But the eyes that were peering out from under the youth's bangs were a vivid and startling blue. They were filled with a dizzying myriad of emotions—relief, curiosity, suspicion, disbelief...

"Hello, there," said Kincaid in English, smiling encouragingly.

The boy shrank back at the sound of the older man's voice, not returning the smile and bristling slightly. Kincaid's smile faltered and he looked contemplatively down at the teen. There was not a lack of intelligence in those blue eyes, that was for certain. But as for the teen's caution...Kincaid figured that it had something to do with the island. Certainly the youth was not born on the strip of land.

"_Bonjour, monsieur,_" he ventured again, trying French this time. "Are you all right?" he continued, noticing the boy's eyes widen in recognition. This was good; the teen was familiar with the language. Maybe he could communicate with him. "Who are you?"

The boy's cautious demeanor dropped away instantly and he looked at Kincaid curiously, his blue eyes flickering with confusion. Kincaid was encouraged by this, and he scooted closer to the youth. "My name is Albert Kincaid. I am the captain of the_ Gerarde._ Who are you?" he asked again.

The boy seemed to be at a loss for words. Perhaps, thought Kincaid with alarm, the boy could not speak; he seemed to comprehend what the captain was saying, but beyond that...

"We can care for you on the ship," he said now, gesturing to the boat. The teen's eyes followed Kincaid's hand and his eyes widened. Before the older man could react, the boy shrank away from him in outright panic. Kincaid quickly said, "It's all right. Nothing will harm you now."

The blonde regarded him anxiously for another moment before slowly nodding. He made no move to go to the ladder, however, instead looking at Kincaid intently.

"_..._My name...is...Raphael."

The sentence was spoken in broken, halting French, and the boy looked distinctly uncomfortable; perhaps he was ashamed of the fact that he no longer knew how to speak properly. But Kincaid immediately pounced on the name he was given and he said, "Your name is Raphael?"

With a slightly relieved expression, the teen nodded.

The older captain frowned. He felt as if he had heard that name somewhere, somewhere vague...not too many people went by that name. It was quite singular, one that would easily be recognized…Kincaid knew he had heard it before, but where had he—?

Wait.

A couple of years ago, there had been a huge commotion about a sunken cruise liner; there had been no survivors, and amongst the list of the lost had been the rather prominent Knighton family. Was this boy...? Was it _possible_?

"Is your last name Knighton?" he asked quickly, wondering if he was right.

But his sentence had been spoken too fast; Raphael looked lost, confusion decorating his face. It wasn't that the boy did not know French—that was the language of his birth. Realization dawned on the sea captain's face as he finally understood why the boy had not initially spoken.

Raphael had been on that island alone for so long, he had forgotten how to speak.

He repeated his inquiry, speaking slowly so that the boy could understand him. This time, Raphael nodded. "How do you…?" he began, before he stopped and a light of comprehension entered his eyes.

"It was all over the news a while ago," Kincaid said slowly and clearly.

"…How long…was I…on the island?" asked Raphael hesitantly, struggling to put the words together. This sentence was a little better formed, though the words still came out slow and unsure.

Kincaid hesitated. "Three years, give or take."

Raphael's face went unnaturally blank. "My family…?"

"You're the only survivor."

Kincaid noticed the look of white-hot grief in the blue eyes, flickering as briefly as a candle's flame, before it vanished abruptly and Raphael looked away. "I thought so…" he murmured softly. The poor lad looked vulnerable now, and Kincaid heartily wished that he had better news to give.

After a stretch of uncomfortable silence, Raphael wordlessly slipped past him and made his way to the ladder. Kincaid followed after the teen, making certain that the boy did not fall as the two of them climbed onto the ship.

A few moments later, a rowboat made its way back onto the island to gather the few possessions that Raphael had. Within the hour, the _Gerarde _was on its way back to the main trade route and to France, after receiving news that the storm had mysteriously cleared off.

* * *

Soon, now...soon, he would have the first piece of the puzzle that he needed to fight the Nameless Pharaoh. He watched from the Orichalcos Stone as the ship set sail from the island and he smiled_._ "It has begun."


	28. Going Shopping

_I had oodles of fun writing this one._

_After several requests, it has arrived—the sequel to "Of Legs And Clothes Shopping."_

* * *

Raphael raised an eyebrow. "No. Valon, you are not wearing those."

Valon held up the black jeans enticingly. "Why not? Alister wears black all the time, 'n' no one gets on 'is case," he said.

"…Alister doesn't wear pants that have holes the size of watermelons in them. That's why," replied Raphael firmly, setting the pants back on the rack and steering Valon away from that particular section of the store.

After Gurimo's failed attempt to get Valon to the mall that bordered the safe house, Raphael had opted to take the teenager shopping. Alister had also tagged along, claiming he needed a new belt (in reality, he didn't want to be left behind with Gurimo). They had lost the redhead a while ago, however, and neither of them knew where he went.

…Come to think of it, no one ever knew where Alister went.

"So 'ow 'bout this?" asked Valon, holding up a studded belt.

Raphael glanced at it. "We're here to shop for clothes, but if we have time we'll look for some belts."

"You know, we could put Valon in a polo shirt," said Alister abruptly, holding up a blue-striped polo.

"Not on your life, Alist—GAH! 'ow do ya keep doin' that?" Valon yelped, stumbling backward. In the next second the boy let out another startled cry as he disappeared into the depths of the circular clothes rack.

Concerned, Raphael hurried forward. "Valon, are you all right?"

A shaking hand came emerged from between the clothes a moment later. "The clothes…they're smotherin' me…forget me…save yourselves…" came a muffled voice from within the clothes rack.

Alister rolled his eyes and tugged the Australian free from the rack. "Knock it off, Valon," he muttered. "We're in a store."

Valon laughed, standing upright and brushing off imaginary dust. "Doesn' matter t' me. If I know you any, you'll jus' deny knowin' me."

Raphael sighed, shaking his head. "Come on you two," he said, turning around and walking past Valon. "We need to get a move on. Gurimo also put us on grocery duty."

He turned again to make sure they were following him, but froze and stared at Valon in disbelief. He blinked several times, rubbing his eyes just to make sure he was seeing properly.

Alister, who was facing Raphael, noticed the older man's stunned look and asked, "What's wrong, Raphael?"

Valon turned around fully to face the blonde. "Yeah, Raph. Whatsa matter?"

But now Alister had seen what Raphael had, and the redhead also stared at the shorter teen with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. He let out a startled laugh.

"What?" asked Valon, noticing the amused looks on both of his older companion's faces. "What's the joke?"

At this point, both of the older bikers were fighting to not burst out laughing. "I think it would be best if we started looking for pants, Valon," said Raphael, trying his hardest not to smile..

"Why?" asked Valon, looking down at his jeans. "These too tight or somethin'?"

Alister fought to keep his face straight as he said, "Something, yes. I wouldn't go out in public if I were you."

Valon did not understand why both Raphael and Alister looked so amused, and he frowned as he ran through possible explanations. At length, he inspected his jeans and he said, "I don' see anythin' wrong 'ere."

At this, Raphael and Alister could not help it. They both burst into laughter, and it was Valon's turn to look at them in disbelief. "What the…Raph, Alister, what the devil is so funny?" he asked indignantly. "My pants are zipped up an' everythin'!"

Raphael managed to speak through his laughter. "Valon…the back of your pants…"

The Australian blinked. "What's so bad about that?" he asked, heading for the nearest mirror.

Alister, still laughing, held up three fingers and began counting down. "3…2…1…cue the horrified scream," he said.

Sure enough, they heard a strangled yelp and a blur that they identified as Valon disappeared once again into the clothes rack. "Why didn' you tell me my pants split?!" he hissed, his blue eyes the only thing visible in darkness of the clothes rack.

"Because I think it happened when you fell backward," said Raphael, reigning in his laughter as he eyed the hapless teenager. "At any rate, we better find you some pants. Come on out of there."

"Not for love or money," Valon said flatly, remaining hidden in the clothes rack.

Raphael shook his head, parting the clothes and eyeing the squatting teenager. "Alister can give you his coat until you get a pair of pants, and you can tie it around your waist until then."

Alister glared balefully at the older blonde. "What makes you think that I am going to do that?" he snapped, holding his black zip up hoodie close to him.

"Because I can't very well take off my shirt and give it to him," explained Raphael patiently, gesturing to the dark tank top he was wearing. "And my vest is too short to hide the tear."

The redhead glared for a moment longer before he sighed and shrugged off his jacket, handing it to Valon. "Stain it and die," he said coldly, watching as Valon tied it around his waist.

The Australian instantly leapt out, startling a clerk as she was hanging up some returned items. "No worries, Alister," he said cheerfully. "Nothin's gonna 'appen to it."

"That's what he said the last time I loaned him something," muttered Alister under his breath, following after Valon.

After another half hour of shopping through the mall had passed, the youngest member of their group was equipped with three pairs of pants, two pairs of shorts, ten pairs of socks ("Washing socks in the washing machine and walking into a shower with them on is NOT the same thing."), several new t-shirts, and a jacket.

"Thank you for my hoodie," said Alister, snatching his black hoodie away from the teenager as they walked out to the car (they had borrowed it from Gurimo, since Valon did not have his motorcycle license yet). He slipped it on before he opened the front passenger door.

Valon and Raphael, however, stared at the back of Alister's hoodie with a hint of disbelief until Alister got into the car. At length, Raphael looked at Valon. "Should I tell him about that white streak on the back of his coat?" he asked.

"And tell 'im that I did sit on that bench—which 'e told me _not_ to sit on—and it 'ad wet paint on it? Not a prayer. Let 'im find out," replied the teen, hopping into the car with his bags in tow.

Raphael thought about it, then shrugged. He wasn't about to tell Alister about the paint on his sweatshirt—he wasn't in the mood to referee another fight.

…He would wait until they got home, when the danger of Alister throwing Valon out of the car was eliminated.


	29. Digging Up The Past: Part I

_This came out of nowhere._

_Alister's Girlfriend's story "Out of Line," (which was written for me—thank you oodles, AG!) deals directly with Valon's good for nothing 'parents' showing up. This shot directly references that story, so you'll need to read it to understand a few issues. I have altered a few events from that story, however._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Ms. Wilson, nor do the names and appearances of the Angliss's belong to me. The concept of them is mine, but the names aren't. They belong to AG._

* * *

To say that the atmosphere was tense would be a rather obvious understatement.

The two men faced each other from across the desk, blue eyes clashing against silver orbs. Nothing could be determined by their emotionless faces—it would almost be as if one was looking into a mirror. Neither side showed any intention of yielding, but their body postures were stiff and tense.

"Kaiba." It was a curt greeting from the redhead that broke the silence first.

"Alister." The reply from the brunette was equally as curt.

There was another long silence, cold and icy as the two men continued to regard each other. If someone had been standing in the room, they would have certainly feared that violence would soon be involved, but that person would also have to not know either of the two men.

This was not a battle of physical strength. This was a battle of wills.

It was the brunette who broke the silence first. "I'm sure you have a logical reason for standing in my office," he said, a hint of sarcasm decorating his voice. His face, however, remained impassive.

The redhead also replied with that same hint of sarcasm, "I'm sure you're waiting for me to give a logical answer."

"That would be nice. I have a company to run."

The other man reached into his dark trenchcoat and carelessly tossed a manila folder onto the brunette's desk. The contents slid out slightly from the inside, but nothing was dislodged and the papers remained inside. "Here's my answer."

"…Right. I'm sure a folder is a perfect excuse for you to be standing here." There was no attempt to hide the contempt in that tone. "I can even see the 'break into my office and get out free' stamp on it."

"I didn't break into your office. Your secretary let me in."

"I certainly don't remember the phone call notifying me that you would be gracing me with your presence."

"That's beside the point," snapped the redhead, and his eyes flashed. "I'm not here to have a discussion on etiquette."

"Then why are you here?" challenged the brunette, his own eyes flashing. "And it had better be a good reason, considering who I'm talking to."

The redhead bristled, but said nothing for a moment. It was obvious he was trying to reign in his temper long enough to interact with the other man. The brunette also seemed to be fighting to keep his anger in check.

The redhead broke the silence first.

"I need that file's information expanded. There isn't enough in there and I need more than what I have," he said simply, watching the other man intently.

Raising an eyebrow, the brunette opened it and briefly scanned the contents. Although he said nothing, surprise flickered in his cobalt eyes. "Isn't this one of your friends?" he asked at last, the surprise vanishing.

"…Yes." There was an amount of reluctance in his voice. "I really need to know more about his background. That file just covers the bare minimum—I need to have specifics, especially concerning his birthday."

The brunette continued to watch the other man. "You do realize that there is such a thing as doctor patient confidentiality? Anything concerning his medical history will most likely be impossible to access."

There was no immediate reply.

The brunette sighed, scanning the file again before looking up at the other man. "Name one good reason why I should help you."

The redhead locked gazes with him, his eyes betraying nothing and his body remaining immobile. "You know I can't give you one," he said simply, but there was more desperation in that sentence alone than could be expressed.

Yet his face and body remained impossible to read.

They both looked at each other from across the desk, one trying to gauge a reaction and the other simply doing nothing. The atmosphere had shifted now—instead of icy coldness there was now an almost tense desperation.

This time, the silence was broken by the intercom. "_Mr. Kaiba, it's time for your three o'clock meeting."_

Seto rose from his seat, looking at Alister with a bored expression. "I do believe that's your cue to remove yourself from this office," he said, dipping his head to the entrance. He gave no indication of the thoughts currently running through his brain.

Alister said nothing, his gray eyes unreadable, but he nodded and turned. Within moments, Alister had left the room and there was no indication that the man had ever been in that place to begin with.

Save for the manila folder sitting on Seto Kaiba's desk.

* * *

The coin landed on top of Alister's book. "Penny for your thoughts?"

The gray eyed man jumped, looking up at a familiar blonde. He then picked up the copper coin, setting his book down before he looked up at his older friend. "What makes you think anything is bothering me?" he asked.

Raphael sat down in the armchair, one of his eyebrows arched. "Hmm, let me think," he began in a mock thoughtful voice. "You're reading a book, the front hallway smells like cigarette smoke, the copy of Valon's case file that Ms. Wilson kindly provided us with isn't where I left it, and Misa keeps hissing at the front door."

Alister sighed. "Those people came by again," he said flatly. He would not, under any circumstances, call them by their proper title. Those people did not deserve to be called Valon's parents—not now, not ever.

Raphael nodded in understanding, his expression darkening. "I figured," he growled.

It had been only a week ago when a Mr. and Mrs. Angliss had darkened their front porch, claiming to be Valon's parents. Ms. Wilson, the social worker on Valon's case, had been convinced to leave them a copy of Valon's file so that they could see what they were up against and to possibly do what research they could.

Of course, things around the biker's home were extremely tense, especially since the couple kept bothering them. The first morning after this had happened, Valon started getting up earlier than even Alister and disappearing from the house, returning late at night. Sometimes, he didn't even come back at all; he usually stayed over with Marik, though some ocassions found him staying at his girlfriend's house.

The two older bikers did not blame Valon for making himself scarce.

Raphael had made it abundantly clear to the couple that he had no interest in telling them anything about Valon or his whereabouts, even though he had been threatened with court orders ("Show me the signature of the judge, and I'll tell you what you want to know.").

Alister had also made his intentions known, usually by ignoring the doorbell altogether. The one occasion he had answered the door and found the Angliss's outside it ended quickly—he merely slammed the door in their faces and went back up to his room.

Even Misa, friendly to all, disliked the couple. Once when Raphael had answered the door, Misa had been in his arms. When she had seen Mrs. Angliss, all of her fur had stood up and the feline leapt from the blonde's arms before he could stop her. The cat had leapt out at Mrs. Angliss, attacking her face and spitting madly.

The woman still bore the marks from the kitten's claws.

Misa was rewarded with a healthy dose of chicken from that night's dinner.

"I wish they would just go away," said Alister darkly. "They obviously hadn't bothered to take Valon with them all those years ago. I don't understand why they would want him back now."

Raphael ran a hand through his hair wearily. "I don't either, Alister. I do know one thing though—they aren't leaving here with him," he said firmly, his eyes hardening. Alister agreed fervently, remaining silent however.

There was not a chance that either of the older bikers—or anyone who knew him—would let Valon leave with those people. He was where he belonged, and they weren't about to let them take the teenager without a fight.

* * *

"Seto? What are you doing?" asked Mokuba curiously, noticing that the older teenager was poring over a manila folder. The raven haired Kaiba wasn't exactly sure what it was, but ever since Seto had gotten home he had been on his laptop, the scant contents of the file scattered across his desk.

His older brother didn't look away from the computer screen as he said absently, "Research."

"Really? On what?"

"Australian hospitals. Mokuba, could you check on our calendar and see when we have that conference in Sydney? And while you're at it, send Noa in here. I need to talk to him about something."


	30. Digging Up The Past: Part II

_The plot bunnies keep on coming!_

_This is the second part of the arc, and there is more to come. Gentleshipping is in here too, that's a first (I am no good at romantic things...)_

_Disclaimer: Same as the previous chapter._

* * *

Valon hated it.

He hated the feeling of slinking around and hiding like a wanted criminal from everyone, but he could not very well face the two demons that were haunting his home. He didn't know how he was supposed to deal with it.

Marik and his siblings did not question Valon's sudden interest in staying over almost every night; the eldest of them reminded Valon strongly of Raphael. Marik's older sister, who worked late at the museum most of the time anyway, had been more than welcoming of the Australian once she realized that he was a friend to Marik. The blonde Egyptian teenager also raised no objection to Valon's stay.

Yet Valon also understood that the Egyptian family would need space, which was why he also stayed intermittently at Shizuka's house. His girlfriend had been supportive of him, ignoring her older brother's interrogations as to why, "that Aussie is living here," and offering comforting words.

Valon very rarely returned to his own house.

He could not. He had faced those people once, and he could not make himself do it again. He feared that he would punch his father out of anger and make the situation worse, possibly resulting in being taken away from Raphael, Alister, Misa, Shizuka, and everything else he was familiar with.

He had never felt so helpless.

Raphael and Alister called him every now and then (mostly Raphael; Alister had never been the type to publicly ask about anyone's welfare) during the week. Valon had been informed that Ms. Wilson's investigation was still underway and that information was difficult in finding. He had also been told about Misa's unprecedented attack on Mrs. Angliss—he would NEVER call that woman his mother—and he had laughed out loud when he had heard it.

It was still a nightmare though. Every time he was at the Ishtar's home and he thought about going back to his own house, Valon would see the Angliss' on his front porch and he would recoil from the window. It was not as if they could see him, but the teenager was still afraid; if they figured out where he was, they would come and pester the Ishtars, and that was something he could not allow.

Valon very rarely ran from any challenge. He was no coward.

He just didn't know how to deal with events that were so far out of his control.

* * *

"Valon?"

The teen jumped, opening his eyes and looking down at Shizuka. She was curled up on the sofa beside him; they had been watching a movie, something about a Princess Buttercup and her lover Presley (he had a name that sounded like that). The television screen was black now, though, and the room lights were back on. Her pretty green eyes looked up at his cerulean orbs, watching him worriedly. "You were sleeping."

"Sorry, Shizuka," he apologized, guilt clenching in the pit of his stomach. The younger girl had wanted to desperately see this movie with him, and he felt terrible that he had fallen asleep. "I didn' mean t' do that. I's jus'…"

"I know," replied the auburn haired teenager soothingly, leaning against him and slipping her head beneath his shoulder to wrap her arms around his waist. "You've had a lot to deal with. Those _people_," her voice filled with disgust at that word, "had no business coming back here."

Valon sighed, letting his arm rest on Shizuka's back. "I…I feel just awful, though. Poor Raph 'n' Alister 'ave t' deal with my…with _them_, 'n' I feel like a coward for hidin'."

Shizuka looked at up him from her position. "If I know either of them any, they aren't holding this against you," she said in that same soothing tone.

Valon ran his other hand through his bangs. "I know tha'…but I still feel pretty bad that the fellas 'ave t' deal with 'em, and this's my mess," he said, a hint of frustration in his voice.

The girl continued to watch him. "You didn't ask for any of this to happen, Val," she said, using her nickname for him in an effort to cheer him up.

Valon smiled in spite of himself. "I never asked for a lot of things to 'appen, Shizuka," he said softly.

* * *

The next morning, he stayed at his house.

He chose to stay there now, because it was his mess and it was high time he dealt with it. Valon knew that Raphael would be at work and that Alister had to go to the family center today, leaving him with only Misa as backup, but he hardly cared. He sat in the family room, waiting tensely for the doorbell to ring.

Half an hour later, it did.

Valon rose from the sofa, hoping against hope that it was Marik or Shizuka or even Jounouchi. When he peered through the peephole, though, his hopes were dashed when he saw his parents on the porch.

For one wild second, he honestly thought about not answering and fleeing, but he took a steadying breath and gripped the doorknob. It was time for Round Two.

He opened the door and leaned against the frame, his eyes hard and his posture stiff. "What d'ya want 'ere?" he asked coldly.

He could obviously tell that the couple had been expecting Raphael—the demanding attitude that they had been carrying dropped away instantly, to be replaced with fake concern and delight.

"You're here," said Mrs. Angliss breathlessly, her eyes speaking nothing of her delight; Valon noticed Misa's handiwork on her cheeks and forehead, and he felt savage delight that her makeup could not conceal those marks. His father was watching him with cold calculation, but otherwise gave no indication of his thoughts. "I was worried that those brutes had hurt you."

Valon bristled, knowing exactly who they were referring to, and he said coolly, "Raph 'n' Alister aren' brutes, 'n' you both need t' leave. I wan' nothin' t' do with either o' ya."

"How can you say such a thing to your mother?" asked Mrs. Angliss with fake shock. "After I took care of you and—"

"Save it for someone who actually cares," snapped Valon, cutting her off. "I don' know why you've come back, but I want you both gone."

"Now see here, young man," began Mr. Angliss in a stern voice, but Valon had enough.

"Look, you both think tha' I'll miraculously change m' mind and give ya both Parents o' th' Year Awards jus' because ya keep pesterin' Raph 'n' Alister?" he asked, his accent thickening. "You 'onestly think tha' your cockamamie story 'bout 'ow I got lost in a crowd is gonna work with me, after I know perfectly well wha' 'appened? I was four, not stupid. 'm smarter than you both give me credit f'r. You left me behind, 'n' nothin' you say is gonna change tha' fact."

Mrs. Angliss' eyes filled with tears. "That's not true, sweetheart," she began, reaching a hand out to Valon's face. He jerked backward to avoid her, but she still came forward.

_"Don' you dare touch me,"_ Valon snarled, resisting the temptation to slap her hand away. Behind him, he heard Misa hiss and his mother backed away.

Mr. Angliss' face darkened and he also stepped forward. "Why you ungrateful little—" he began ominously, one of his hands pushing on the front door. The Australian growled, keeping pressure on the door. There was no way he would willingly let them in the house.

In the next second, Valon felt something push him back and a firm arm held the front door in its semi-closed position. His view of his parents was obscured by a very familiar figure.

"I don't think you want to finish that sentence," Raphael said coldly. "Now leave. You aren't welcome here."

"You can't keep doing this! We'll go to the police," said Mrs. Angliss indignantly.

"Then go ahead. I could easily explain to them why I keep refusing; the police don't look kindly on harassment. Until I hear otherwise, you are not welcome in this house. Come here again, and I'll call the police," said Raphael curtly, shutting the front door firmly and locking it.

Valon looked at his friend in surprise. "Raph, I thought you were a' work…" he said slowly.

The older blonde turned, regarding the teenager with something of tired amusement. "Today's Saturday," he commented. "I figured I'd sleep in."

The brunette only then noticed that his friend was still in his pajamas, and he said, "Aw Raph, 'm sorry. I didn' mean t' wake ya up."

"You didn't wake me up. The doorbell did; that and Misa came and got me. She wouldn't stop meowing in my ear," Raphael said, bending down to scoop the cat into his arms. He scratched the kitten under her chin, and the feline emitted a loud purr.

Valon grinned. "Good ol' Misa," he said. "She's one smart cookie."

Raphael nodded absently, setting Misa on the sofa before turning to Valon. "I'm pretty sure you're going to want breakfast," he said, heading for the kitchen. "I could use some coffee."

The Australian teenager followed after his older friend. After a moment, he said seriously, "I hope those scratches scar."

The blonde, who Valon fully expected to reprimand him, instead chuckled. "I hope so too," he said, getting out the frying pan. "I normally don't say things like that, but that woman fully deserves it."

Valon started to laugh. It was rare that Raphael openly disliked anyone; he usually kept such feelings to himself.

Raphael smiled, setting the frying pan on the stove. "Could you get me the eggs? Breakfast won't make itself," he said. Valon nodded, but looked back seriously at Raphael before he moved.

"Thanks, mate," he said after a moment, moving to the refrigerator. He didn't know how else to say it, and he wasn't in the mood to be a sappy mess, but Raphael (and Alister, but he wasn't there at the moment) deserved his gratitude.

Raphael didn't reply, but the look in his ice blue eyes told Valon that he understood why Valon was thanking him.


	31. Digging Up The Past: Part III

_This is the third in the series, and here's a heads up: Our favorite bikers in here are only mentioned. Despite the fact this whole collection is about them, there will be occasions where I feel that they need to be mentioned only. There is definitely a fourth one on its way, and maybe even a fifth._

_On a note, there is a time difference in between the parts of this shot. The second part occurs five days after the first part…you'll understand once you read it._

_Disclaimer: Same as Parts I and II, with the exception of Carly. She's mine._

* * *

He had his work cut out for him.

Most of the hospital records that he was looking at had only recently been transferred to the computer system, which made things doubly harder than it had to be. And considering that the person that he was searching for may not have even been listed in the system (for all he knew, the guy could have been born in someone's house), his task was extremely difficult.

Difficult. But not impossible.

Of the three Kaiba brothers, Noa was definitely more familiar with breaking past firewalls and security codes; spending years inside of a computer had its advantages. This was why Seto had asked Noa to break through the firewalls surrounding every hospital in the Sydney area, so that he could search easier for "Valon Angliss."

For some reason, that last name made Seto cringe.

That wasn't the hard part of his task, however. He had to find the hospital where Valon had been born in three days—Seto would be leaving for a conference in Sydney at the end of the week, which meant that he had to have the hospital name in mind when he went out to that city. He would need to also have one of his doctors in employ request the file when he found it and have the social worker's office listed as the recipient.

Legal processes would not be too much a challenge—provided he could find out where Valon had been born and request to have the file legally transferred to the social worker's office. It also helped that he not mention about the hacking of the hospital's network when he went to the hospital in question.

Finding it was going to be the hard part.

Seto had gone through all the records of the five main hospitals and had found nothing on anyone named Angliss. Yet the file Alister had provided explained that Valon had been born in one of them in December. This raised an alarm flag to Seto, who was all too used to people forging birth certificates to slip under the radar.

Now there was a whole new aspect to his search: he couldn't use the surname to find anything.

He was re-doing his search currently, using only Valon's first name to look through the records and try to narrow it down. Seto also decided to nix the DOB listed, using only the birth year as a guide. This was an even bigger task at hand, since Valon's name was popular in Australia and therefore was used frequently.

It did not deter him, though.

He had read the file and had seen the pictures of the people claiming to be Valon's parents, even though Seto knew absolutely nothing about the person he was doing this for; the people in those pictures absolutely screamed, "We're snakes in the grass!"

He had also seen a picture of Valon himself, and decided that he looked absolutely nothing like them. If anything, it made Seto even more suspicious of the couple—they had no resemblance, had only just now started to try and find him, and the very birth certificate they had supplied was suspect.

Seto was not doing this for Alister. As far as the redhead was concerned, he would not ever entirely be trusted; hijacking a plane and nearly killing himself, Mokuba, and Seto was not exactly friendship material.

Seto was doing this because he knew what it was like to have a messed up family.

* * *

Amy Wilson sighed, rubbing her temples wearily as she stared down at the papers.

It was now her second week into her investigation since the Angliss' had contacted her and since the encounter with their 'son' (even she was not entirely certain about that). Since then, the couple had been constantly calling her office and offering up a steady stream of complaints: that the cat belonging to the bikers had viciously attacked Mrs. Angliss, that the "brutes" had beaten and starved their child, that their son had been brainwashed, and other such complaints.

She had already called the house concerning a few of these complaints, and she counted herself lucky that Mr. Knighton had answered the phone and had even been calm and understanding about her position; if it had been either of the other two residents, she wasn't entirely sure that she would be greeted with such cordiality.

Mr. Knighton had explained that, yes their cat had attacked Mrs. Angliss, but that was the only truth in their accusations. He had also asked if it was possible to keep the Angliss' away from their home until further information arrived—they had been harassing the house ever since they had visited and the bikers had not gotten a moment of peace.

Amy agreed, calling the couple afterwards and warning them to stay away from the home: "You could pressure your son into running away or worse, and then the search would have to start all over again."

The Angliss' had reluctantly agreed, and she had gotten no further calls from either side.

Her search into Valon's background had yielded next to nothing about the boy. It was as if the child had literally appeared from nowhere; the few medical records she could find told her nothing but what she had heard from the Angliss', and his prison records were even harder to trace. In fact, it was as if anything pertaining to the teenager had disappeared.

The curly haired woman leaned back against her chair, unsure of what she was supposed to do. She could not very well do anything with no information to go on; although everything seemed to be in order, there was no denying that there was some suspicious activity involved, especially if the biker's claims were true. But to back up Valon's story, Amy would need more information—and that was something that she could not find.

If she had to, Amy would go to Sydney herself to delve deeper into this case.

There was a knock at the door, followed by her secretary, Carly, entering the room. The ginger haired woman was carrying a package with her, and as she set it down on the desk she asked, "Who's your consult in Australia, Amy?"

Amy felt her heart stop at the question. The firm she worked for did have consults all over the place, but she herself had no one that worked for her in Australia. "What do you mean, Carly?" she asked calmly, hardly daring to believe it.

"Well, the address on here is from a medical center in Sydney…" the secretary began, jumping as Amy quickly picked up the package. "Were you expecting something from there?"

Amy began to smile as she opened the package and saw a manila folder, labeled with Valon's name and stamped with a red 'Confidential' across it. "Yes, Carly…yes I was," she said, picking up the cover letter and beginning to read it. She vaguely heard her secretary leave the room, but her attention was focused on the paper she was reading.

Within minutes she was already beginning to go through the file, and she felt a smile grow on her face as she read the contents.

This file had just determined Valon's fate.

Now she just needed to give the verdict to both the Angliss' and the bikers.


	32. Digging Up The Past: Part IV

_Second to last part of the mini-story arc!_

_After this, there is only one more part. And I have also decided that there shall be similar mini-story arcs for Raphael and Alister, though I will need ideas. Let me know via reviews or PM's._

_Disclaimer: Same as Parts I, II, and III._

* * *

It was a peaceful late morning at the biker's house. Raphael was sitting in the family room with another of his books, Misa curled up comfortably on the headrest of the armchair. The cat had been perched there for a couple of hours now and the blonde doubted she would move.

Alister was upstairs still, taking his daily shower; Raphael could hear the water running from where he sat. The redhead had chosen to sleep in this morning, one of the rare occasions that he did so, but everyone deserved a break.

Valon was not in the house; he had been up early again, though not before Raphael had woken up, and he had already gone out. It was the first morning in two weeks that he had actually seen Valon come down the stairs—the teenager had been avoiding his parents during that time, and it was a welcome sight to see Valon stay put for a change.

Raphael stopped reading for a moment, looking out the window absently. It had been several days since the Angliss' last visit, but remembering it still made Raphael's blood boil. The idea that Mr. Angliss had nearly gotten into the house—and the idea that Valon could have very well been hit—angered the blonde greatly.

It also had angered Alister, too. The redhead was not exactly thrilled when he came back from the center and he heard about what had happened. Though he had not given any indication that he was angry about it, his gray eyes had flashed menacingly and still did at any mention of the matter.

Raphael wasn't exactly sure what he himself would have done had the couple come inside or—heaven forbid—found out that Mr. Angliss had hit Valon; he knew perfectly well that the look on the other man's face spoke volumes of his intent to do just that.

Put politely, it would not have ended well on either side.

Thankfully, though, the Angliss' had not returned since that encounter; he hoped it had something to do with Ms. Wilson, but then also it could have something to do with Raphael's threat.

At that thought he frowned. As much as he hated to admit it, the threat had been a bluff; although the police would understand about the harassment issue, there was not a police force in the world that would keep visitation rights away from a family, especially considering the circumstances. Surely the Angliss', who were interacting with the law to get Valon back, would call Raphael on that bluff.

Why hadn't they?

The blonde sighed, shaking his head and looking at the clock. If they had not returned, he was not going to question it—he enjoyed the peace and quiet.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Misa instantly looked up, her green eyes watching the door intently, but judging by the fact she hadn't run from the room hissing Raphael assumed that someone else was at the door.

He rose to his feet and went to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open. Just in case it was the couple he kept a firm hand on the door. However, he dropped his hand when he realized that a familiar woman was standing on the front porch.

"Ms. Wilson," he said, managing to hide both his surprise and his dread. Although Raphael understood that the woman herself held no ill will toward any of them and that she was doing her job, it didn't stop him from wondering why she was here—and what kind of news she carried with her.

"Hello, Mr. Knighton," Ms. Wilson said, holding her briefcase with her. "Might I come in? I have some news you might want to hear."

"Of course," he replied after a moment of hesitation, opening the door wider and allowing the woman to pass him.

As the curly haired blonde passed she asked, "Is Valon here by any chance?"

Raphael shook his head. "I'm afraid not. He's gone out, but if you need him here I can call him on his cell phone."

"No, that's all right," replied Ms. Wilson, heading into the family room. "I think it would be best if the news came from the both of you, since he's most familiar with you. Hello, Mr. Gayle."

Raphael blinked, only then noticing that Alister was leaning against the family room doorway. He wasn't sure how the redhead had appeared downstairs without Raphael not knowing it, but he shrugged it off. Alister commonly appeared from nowhere; this was nothing new. The other biker's hair was still wet, already curling up at the ends, so Raphael assumed that his friend had just gotten out of the shower when he heard the doorbell go off.

Ms. Wilson sat herself where Raphael had been only seconds before, opening her briefcase and setting a file on the coffee table in front of her. "Now, as you both know I was doing some more research on Valon's case," she said, placing a pair of golden reading glasses on her face.

Raphael nodded tensely, sitting down on the sofa and noticing that Alister's eyes were focused entirely on Ms. Wilson. Misa herself seemed to be listening as well, for she hadn't moved from her new position on the windowsill and her green eyes were watching the woman.

"I'm guessing you found something," said Alister quietly, not moving from where he stood and giving no indication of his thoughts. Raphael knew better, though—Alister was just as tense as he was.

Ms. Wilson nodded. "Several things, to be precise," she said. "It took a bit of doing, but we finally recovered Valon's medical background. It turns out that the Angliss' story has some major errors in it, starting with them. They aren't even Valon's parents."

At that, both of the older bikers froze.

Raphael was the first to break the silence. "What do you mean by that?" he asked slowly, uncertain of what he had just heard.

Behind him he heard Alister inhale sharply, and he knew that the other biker was restraining his anger. He himself was outraged and indignant at the news.

What kind of people were they dealing with? Why had they even taken Valon in if they had no intention of raising him right? Had they waited until Valon was barely old enough to fend for himself before abandoning him? For that matter, what about Valon's real family? Had the Angliss' kidnapped him? If so, why?

The new questions made his head hurt.

"The Angliss' were not Valon's biological parents," said Ms. Wilson after a brief pause. "His biological mother died minutes after Valon was born due to unforeseen complications; she was barely older than he is now, according to the records we have. His father is not even listed in the file."

"So how do these people even relate to him?" asked Raphael in a strained voice. "If they aren't his real parents, how did they get custody of him?"

"According to this file, Valon's mother came in with them the night Valon was born; Mrs. Angliss was older than she was, and the nurse on duty says in the report that the girl had no other alternative than to list the Angliss' as custodians if something happened to her. They received custody of Valon only hours after he was born."

The feeling of horror and anger meshed together uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach, and Raphael pinched the bridge of his nose in an effort to relieve the sudden headache. The fact that Valon had been abandoned by the people who had been raising him was bad enough, but to find out that those very people were not even Valon's real parents…

"What about this girl?" he asked quietly. "Surely she had some other living relatives."

Ms. Wilson sighed, looking back at the other bikers. "When she signed herself in, she refused to give a last name or list any other living relatives. Our searches can't turn up anything about her background other than her first name—Celeste."

Raphael clenched his fist tightly but said nothing.

"I have a picture of her that Celeste herself provided the hospital; they were to give it to the Angliss' to give to Valon, but they completely disappeared before they could do so. I have it here," she continued, holding up a faded white envelope, "and I believe that there might be a letter for Valon as well, though I haven't opened it to see for myself."

The blonde man reached out a hand to take the envelope from Ms. Wilson. "I'll make sure he gets it this time," he said simply. Ms. Wilson handed the letter to Raphael after a split-second hesitation, and he set it carefully on the coffee table.

"What about Valon's story?" he asked wearily. It was time to change the topic back to where Valon was ultimately allowed to live. "I believe it whole-heartedly when he says that the Angliss' abandoned him."

"Unfortunately, we can't find any conclusive proof on whether they are telling the truth or whether Valon is. However, we discovered another interesting bit—they also lied about Valon's birthday."

Alister gave a bitter laugh, reminding both Raphael and Ms. Wilson that he was present. "Why doesn't that surprise me at all?" he said, barely able to keep the disgust out of his voice. Raphael turned, noticing that Alister's fists were clenched dangerously to the point of drawing blood.

"His birthday is in May—the exact day escapes me at the moment, but it's in the file," said Ms. Wilson after a pause. "There are so many other discrepancies between the Angliss' story and what is listed in this file that I can't even begin to list them, but the bottom line here is that they will not get custody of Valon. I'm not really someone you want to lie to."

There were a few more minutes of conversation, in which that the social worker established that Valon could remain at the biker's home (Raphael had a mental image of Valon saying indignantly, "'m not anyone's charge! I can bloody well _decide_ where I wanna live!") and that the Angliss' would be notified of this latest development. After that Ms. Wilson departed, leaving the two bikers behind in a now silent home.

Alister growled softly as he sank onto the sofa. "Valon isn't going to like this," he said darkly. "He won't like what we tell him at all."

Raphael slumped wearily in the now vacated armchair. "_I_ don't like what we have to tell him," he said tiredly. On one hand, he was glad that Valon was not related to such horrible people. But on the other hand, he wasn't looking forward to relating what he had just heard.

"At least the Angliss' won't get him, and that's good news," he said after a pause, looking to Alister. "Now come with me. You cut your palms."

The redhead looked down at the crimson half-moons in his hands and he silently rose to his feet, following Raphael as the blonde went into the kitchen. He remained silent as the older man treated the cuts, not even wincing when the antiseptic spray went onto the wounds.

They both were still reeling from what they had heard.

Valon was fairly unpredictable when it came to his emotions. The Australian had a destructive temper and could change moods at a moment's notice; it was one of the reasons that they had treaded lightly around the boy when he had first arrived back in DOOM.

Neither of the older bikers could predict how Valon was going to react.

It was with a mixture of relief and dread when Raphael saw Valon's motorcycle pull up in the driveway later on that afternoon.


	33. Digging Up The Past: Part V

_This is the last part to this mini-arc. It's easily the longest part of the five, and possibly one of the longest chapters of this collection._

_Tear-jerker moments abound in this one, so have your tissue boxes at the ready. I was honest to God in tears by the time I finished writing this._

_Disclaimers: Same as Parts I, II, III, and IV, with the exception of Valon's mother, Celeste. She's _entirely_ mine._

* * *

He couldn't explain why, but when he walked into his home he could feel a nameless tension settle over him.

Valon frowned at the silence, not entirely liking it. He would say that his older friends were out and about somewhere, but he had seen Raphael's and Alister's motorcycles in the driveway. And though they were quiet, they were never silent enough to evoke this kind of quiet.

Misa came up to him, purring and rubbing against his ankles, and Valon scooped the kitten into his arms as he padded into the house. "Raph? Alister? Where are ya, fellas?" he called.

"We're in here," came Raphael's voice from the family room, and the teenager followed the sound into the room.

He noticed that Raphael was sitting in an armchair, looking almost worn out. Alister was on the sofa with a book, but he looked distracted and Valon could tell that the redhead hadn't really been reading his book.

"Whatsa matter, fellas?" he asked, wondering what had happened while he was gone. He had spent the afternoon at Shizuka's home, and he'd had a good time while there. He had a distinct feeling that whatever had happened here was going to figuratively burst his bubble.

Raphael seemed hesitant, and the brunette could almost see the discomfort his friend was feeling. "Valon, while you were gone Ms. Wilson came by," said the blonde slowly as he rose to his feet. Valon noticed that Raphael was holding an envelope in his hand, but he did not immediately focus on that.

"Raph…am I gonna 'avta…?" he choked out, afraid of the answer. It was a logical thought—it would certainly explain Raphael's reluctance to talk.

The blonde gave a weary sort of smile as he said reassuringly, "No, Valon. You're staying here. Given the circumstances, Ms. Wilson decided it was better for you here than it was with the Angliss'."

It took a few seconds to sink in, but when it did Valon began to grin. "I can stay 'ere? I don' 'ave t' go with…Really?" he asked hoarsely, hardly daring to believe it.

Alister looked up briefly from the book he was pretending to read. "You know as well as we do that we wouldn't lie to you about something like this," he said, returning to his book after a moment. There was no denying that the redhead was pleased with this news, though; he had an almost unnoticeable smile on his face.

Valon's grin grew, and he felt absolutely elated at the news. "YES!" he crowed, jumping in the air. "Tha's the best news ever! I bet m' parents are 'avin' a fit. HA HA! You failed, Mum 'n' Dad!" he called toward the front door smugly.

"They aren't here, Valon," said Raphael with amusement. But as Valon turned back he noticed that the amusement did not reach the blonde's eyes; something was still off with his friends. "There's something that Ms. Wilson found out about them that I need to tell you."

Even though Valon wasn't looking over at Alister, he could tell that the other man was no longer reading his book and was paying rapt attention to them; he could feel a familiar pair of gray eyes watching him intently.

Valon frowned. "What? That they're wanted criminals 'r somethin' like that? Wouldn' be surprised," he snorted in disgust.

Raphael sighed, looking at Alister before he looked at the Australian teenager. "Well, when Ms. Wilson was looking into your background…she found out something about your mother."

Valon blinked in puzzlement. "I don' know what you're talkin' 'bout," he said, his happiness somewhat vanishing. "I won' ever acknowledge that woman as—"

"It was about your real mother."

He felt all the elation dissipate and instead felt as if he had been punched in the gut.

"…Wha…Raph, I don' unnerstan'…real mother? What d'you mean 'real mother'?" he asked, his voice harsh. "What're you sayin', 'ere? That those people….that those people aren'…"

The teenager couldn't finish his sentence, and he swallowed hard. He felt as if someone was standing on his chest, and it was all he could do to stay where he was. He stared back at Raphael mutely, afraid to ask but wanting an answer.

Raphael nodded tightly, his ice-blue eyes sympathetic as he looked back at the teenager. "Valon…" he began, but the Australian cut him off.

"Well, wha' 'bout m' real mother? Who is she?" demanded Valon in a strangled voice. "'ow come 'm not with her, then? Wha', did _they _kidnap me from me mum? 'ow'd I end up with them? Where's my mother now?"

The older blonde wasn't looking at Valon's eyes, and he did not immediately reply.

"Raph, answer me," said Valon desperately. When the blonde still did not reply, he snarled, "_Raphael_, _answer me now_!"

Alister showed the first emotion since Valon had gotten home—surprise. It had been years since the Australian had used the elder biker's full name; Raphael finally looked up at that, surprise also briefly flickering in his eyes before disappearing.

The blonde said nothing for one last moment before he said quietly, "Your mother, she…she died when she had you."

Valon felt all the color drain from his face, and his eyes widened. He went stiff, and his previously balled hands went slack.

Raphael was saying something, but Valon's hearing had strangely vanished as he stared back at the eldest of his friends. He was dimly aware of being handed an envelope, of Raphael's voice explaining that it had his mother's picture and a possible letter to him inside it, but it was as if Valon was not even there. He wasn't in that room, he was watching from somewhere else as he numbly took the envelope.

All he could consciously think right then was one thought: _'m the one who killed my mother._

The room was closing in on him on all sides, as a suffocating barrier, his vision dipped and swayed, and then Valon felt the burning need to get_ out, get out, run, don' stay 'ere you'll faint run run runrunRUN!_

He was vaguely aware of Raphael's and Alister's voices calling him back, but he ignored it as he practically stumbled out the front door. The wind was roaring in his ears as he took off down the street, the coarse envelope clenched in his hand as he ran down the street. He nearly tripped at the street corner, but he regained his balance and kept on running.

Valon wasn't sure where he was running to, but he was too afraid to stop.

* * *

Raphael watched as Valon rounded the street corner from the front porch, feeling positively sick as the teen vanished from view.

He had very nearly run after the Australian, but refrained at the last second. This was not what Valon needed—as much as it pained the blonde to admit it, what his younger friend needed was to be left alone so he could digest what he had been told.

It had taken every ounce of his willpower to stay at the house.

Raphael clenched his fist tightly, wanting more than anything to help Valon but feeling utterly helpless. He could not even begin to imagine what Valon was going through right now; he didn't know what he could say to the teen about this.

He closed the door behind him, standing in the hall for a moment before he let out a frustrated growl and slammed his fist into the wall. Misa, who had been in the hallway, jumped a foot in the air and fled to the upstairs landing.

Alister was in the hall as well, watching his older friend with unreadable gray eyes. "I take it he ran out of the neighborhood," he guessed quietly.

Raphael nodded, his throat constricting too much to allow speech. The redhead didn't say anything else, just continued to silently watch the older man with gray eyes; his eyes spoke volumes of the same helplessness that he himself felt.

Raphael remained where he was, unclenching his hand but unable to move from his position by the door. "I wish…I wish I could have given him something different," he said hoarsely. "After everything that's happened over the past couple of weeks, he deserved something different to hear."

Alister still said nothing, but his eyes told Raphael that he wished that as well.

* * *

"He's back."

Raphael looked up from the book he had been skimming (he was so stressed out he could barely focus on the words on the page) and glanced at the clock. He wasn't surprised to notice that it was past midnight; he had actually been expecting Valon to return the following morning.

Alister had taken up a position in the window seat, sitting there and looking out at the night through the glass; he had remained there for the duration of Valon's absence, getting up only a handful of times. He remained there still, even as the front door opened and a familiar brunette slipped inside. There wasn't any indication that Valon had cried at all, but that did not mean that the Australian wasn't still aching.

The elder biker set his book on the table nearby, watching the teenager with caution. "Valon?"

The Australian looked over at the two other men and a forced grin appeared on his face. "'ey, fellas. I wasn' expectin' to see you up; it's kinda late. Right sorry I ran out earlier," he said with attempted cheerfulness. His blue eyes, however, burned with raw emotion. "Wasn' thinkin' clearly, y'know?"

"It's all right. We're not mad at you for that," said Alister quietly from the window seat.

"Yeah, I know…it got chilly outside, though. And the stars 'r' out, nice 'n' bright," Valon continued with that same fake cheerfulness.

There was an uncomfortable silence, in which neither of the three said anything.

"She did leave a letter, fellas." Valon's voice was still cheerful, but there was a hint of strain beneath it.

Raphael watched Valon with increased intensity, but said nothing.

"It took me a bit t' read it, 'cause I still don' know me letters all tha' well. I figured it out though—sounded out the words like you showed me 'ow to, Raph. She…she told me not t' blame m'self for what 'appened t' 'er," the Australian continued, his voice thickening but still filled with that fake cheerfulness.

Neither of the older bikers said a word, and to an outsider it was as if they were made of stone.

"And…she…she 'ad 'er picture in there, too. Just for me t' look at." Valon swallowed, obviously struggling to hold his emotions back. His eyes were starting to shine brighter than before, but it had nothing to do with the light. "Y'know, she looks a lot like me, 'n' it's funny in a way. I guess…I guess that the phrase 'mama's boy' applies t' me."

The last part of his sentence came out as a choked sob.

Raphael was instantly out of the armchair and in three swift strides had closed the gap between them. He steered Valon to the sofa, sitting him down before placing a comforting arm around the boy's shoulders. Alister wordlessly slipped from the window seat and joined them, sitting on the other side of Valon but not touching him. His presence was enough.

"If you want to cry, don't hold back on our account," said Raphael gruffly.

The teen had originally gone stiff when Raphael had put an arm around him, but relaxed and allowed the blonde's arm to remain there. He continued to fight against his emotions, but minutes later his shoulders started to shake.

Seconds after that, Valon hid his face in his hands and burst into tears.

The three of them sat on the sofa for a long while, not moving for what felt like hours as Valon continued to cry; they ignored their surroundings almost entirely. Misa joined them during that time, hopping onto the sofa to squeeze herself in the gap between Raphael and Valon and placing her paws on the teen's leg. She did not move from that spot at all, purring softly and comfortingly.

Finally the sobs began to taper off and then cease altogether, during which Valon struggled to recollect himself. After a few steadying breaths he said thickly, "'m sorry fellas. I don' mean t' be such a baby about all this, 'n' I feel like an idiot f'r cryin' like some sheila."

"Don't apologize for being human," said Alister.

Valon made an unintelligible sound and glanced over at the red-haired biker. "You 'ave no room t' talk, mate," he muttered, some of his old self briefly shining through. He wiped his eyes with his arm, rubbing all traces of his tears away; the only evidence that remained was the redness around his eyes.

"Nonetheless, Valon, everyone has the right to cry. And given the circumstances I'm not going to hold this against you," said Raphael firmly.

Valon said nothing for a long moment, looking down at his hands and obviously turning over his thoughts. At last, though, he looked over at his elder friends and said quietly, "Thanks f'r stickin' with me through this, fellas."

"What did you expect us to do, sit by and twiddle our thumbs while you bawled your eyes out?" asked Alister sarcastically. His eyes, however, betrayed his true thoughts.

Valon actually laughed at the comment, his cerulean eyes once again happy. "Naw…I would 'ope you didn' do somethin' like that," he said cheerfully. His stomach growled at that moment, and he flushed. "Oops," he said sheepishly.

Raphael smiled slightly and shook his head, getting to his feet. "I figured that you would be hungry. You ran out of here and didn't eat anything before you left, so I saved you some dinner."

Valon grinned, rising to his feet as well. "Good! 'm _starvin'_," he said, rubbing his stomach and practically bounding to the kitchen.

"…Seems like he's back to his old self," said Alister flatly as he followed after Valon into the kitchen. Raphael shook his head again before he padded after the two younger bikers.

Raphael and Alister knew that Valon was not entirely back to normal, however. It could be a long while before the teen would truly get over the matter—they knew Valon well enough to realize that.

But that was what they were there for. If Valon needed either of them, they would be ready to listen.

* * *

Later the following morning, Valon went out to the nearest store; Raphael was at work and Alister was at the center, but Valon didn't mind it at all that he was by himself. It seemed better if he was the one who did this anyway.

When he got to the store, he bought a simple wooden picture frame with flowers carefully carved into its surface. It was plain and not the most expensive one in the world, but he figured that it would be all right for what he had in mind. He paid for it and then went home.

Shortly after he got home, he went upstairs with his prize and carefully placed his mother's photograph, along with her letter, inside the frame.

"There ya go, Mum," he said softly, smiling as he set the frame on his bedside table.

The girl who looked at him from the photo was very similar to Valon. Her long brown hair fell in tumbling curls that reminded him vaguely of Mai's, with the exception that her hair was more natural looking. Her bangs, not as fluffy as Valon's but still similar in style, framed her face gracefully. Her cerulean eyes were filled with a gentle happiness. The smile on her lips was small, but at the same time gave her a spirited look.

Valon looked at it for one more second before he nodded resolutely and turned to leave the room. Moments later, he was back on his motorcycle and leaving the house. It was close to both Alister's birthday and Valentine's Day, and he needed to go shopping for both of those days; he couldn't very well neglect one of his best friends and his girlfriend, now, could he?

If he had stayed in his room a little longer, however, he might have heard the gentle voice of a woman say warmly, "Thank you, Valon."

* * *

_If you are curious as to Celeste's appearance, you can go to my profile and click on the link to her picture; I drew her myself right before I asked Alister's Girlfriend to write "Out of Line" for me. It will be at the top of the page, beneath my announcements, for a while. Then I'll move it to where my other links are._

_Before anyone asks, I will _**NOT**_ put up Celeste's letter to Valon. I'll make references to it in future chapters, but otherwise the original letter will not be put up._

_That's something that is meant only for Valon's eyes._


	34. Drunken Mischief

_My brother actually inspired this one. He read one of my chapters and he asked, "Well, aren't you going to further elaborate on what happened?"_

_This one is set during DOOM and can be read as the sequel to "Happy New Year!"_

_Note: the Valentine's Day special is late in coming and probably won't be up for some time._

* * *

"'as anyone ever told ya 'ow much o' a j'rk ya're?" asked Valon drunkenly, looking at Alister with unfocused and bloodshot blue eyes. "'n' your 'air looks like one o' th'se Powderpuffie sheilas…Buttlecut 'r somethin' like tha'…didja know tha' mate? No wonder ya look like a girl…"

Alister was trying his hardest to restrain his temper. "Remind to shoot the idiot who invented alcohol-spiked cookies," the redhead said venomously.

Raphael sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "That would be Gurimo," he said.

Valon had been like this now for several hours, since he had ingested nearly twenty rum-spiked cookies by mistake, and the teenager had shown no signs of returning to normal. The whole situation left Raphael feeling a combination of weariness and amusement; the only reason he hadn't burst into laughter was because he would be laughing at Alister's expense.

The redhead was _not_ someone you laughed at.

"You can't take it out on Valon, Alister. We just have to bear with it until he passes out," said Raphael at last, regarding the other man sternly.

"Couldn't we speed that process up, though?" asked Alister with a touch of desperation in his voice. "If I have to put up with him for much longer I think I am going to punch him."

"You would not—"

"_In a heartbeat."_

"Alister, he doesn't even know what he's saying. You can't punch him for something if he doesn't even know why."

"Easy for you to say," the other man retorted. "He hasn't been commenting on every one of your flaws or on your personality quirks for the past two hours."

"But at least he stopped jumping on his bed," said Raphael, referring to earlier in the evening when their friend had done the aforementioned action. The brunette had claimed to be Peter Pan, and it had taken an inordinate amount of effort to stop the Australian.

Valon giggled madly where he was sitting cross-legged on his bed, hiccupping as he watched them, but he said nothing further.

The redhead growled. "It isn't physically possible to get this loopy from just a tiny bit of alcohol," he said in exasperation.

"Y'r face innit phys'cally possible," said Valon in a slurred tone.

Raphael opened his mouth, trying his hardest to say something that would save both of his friends (Valon from unwarranted violence and Alister from losing all matter of his self-control), when Valon blinked and stared intently at the blonde. "'ey Raph…'ow long 've ya been a blob?"

Raphael blinked in surprise at the question, but he didn't get a chance to reply as Valon continued on with his latest ramble.

"Y'know, if y're a blob d'ya reckon Eatos'd like ya? It'd be kinda 'ard t' like a blob, 'cause blobs 're so…_blobby_. They don' 'ave a face, y'know? 'n' Eatos isn' one f'r blobs, prolly since you don' keep blobs in your deck."

It didn't take much of a genius to figure out just what Valon was referring to.

It was Alister's turn to refrain from laughing and Raphael's to regard the teenager with incredulous horror.

The Australian still wasn't done speaking, because he struggled to sit up properly to regard his two companions with crossed eyes. "Come t' think o' it…y're both blobs," he said in confusion, his accent thick. "Y'know, like toothpaste blobs. Mebbe I should borrow some from ya…'ow long 'ave you both been blobs?"

"We've always been this way, Valon. You just never caught on to it," said Alister seriously, ignoring Raphael's warning look. Their youngest associate would most likely never be in that state again, and Alister was going to take full advantage of it.

Valon silently mouthed a "wow" before he frowned, knowing something was horribly off about that logic but unable to put a finger on it. Maybe when his mind stopped fogging up he'd focus better…that's what he needed! Fresh air! That would clear all the fog from his mind.

Raph-blob and Alister-blob weren't looking at him anymore; they were having a conversation to themselves. It was all right, though—he could get to the window himself and open it just fine. He wondered idly how long the walls had been melting as he fiddled with the window. After struggling with it for just a moment, he managed to open it up and leaned out as far as he could.

Alister rubbed his eyes wearily as he said, "Are you sure we can't do anything about him?"

Raphael shook his heads. "He's just going to have to sleep it off. Judging by the fact that he hasn't tried to do anything or get off the bed, I think he's about ready to—"

The blonde's sentence was cut off as Alister looked idly back at the bed and paled. "VALON, YOU _TWIT_!"

The redhead brushed past Raphael and hurried to the bedside window, grabbing the Australian's leg just as the teenager fell entirely through the open window. Noticing that Alister was also about to fall out, Raphael rushed to the window and hauled Valon back into the room by the back of his shirt. The three bikers collapsed in a heap on the floor by the window and remained there for several moments.

After the initial shock had passed, Alister rounded on Valon with a snarl. "What on _earth_ were you _thinking_?!" he snapped. Concern and alarm appeared briefly in the gray eyes but vanished as quickly as it had come.

Valon hiccupped. "Needed air," he mumbled drowsily. "'s too 'ot innere."

Raphael shot Alister a warning look as he said, "Next time ask us for help, Valon. Don't try to open the window again, all right?"

The Australian nodded sleepily, and then (to Raphael's surprise and Alister's relief) the boy fell forward to lean against the muscular blonde. A moment later, Alister investigated the teenager and announced, "He's fallen asleep. _Finally_."

Raphael carefully gathered the slumbering Australian into his arms and rose to his feet, taking care not to disturb the softly snoring boy as he set him back on the bed. Valon rolled over on his side, mumbling incoherently, and then lay still.

The two bikers (after shutting the window and locking them all for good measure) slipped out of the room to allow the boy some sleep.

Raphael noticed the almost wicked grin that Alister now had, and he sighed. "I'm assuming that you're not going to let Valon live this down for a while," he commented.

"Oh, you have no idea. If he thinks he can insult me for three hours and get off scot-free, he's got another thing coming," Alister said. "Blobby_…_revenge will be oh so sweet."

Raphael shook his head wearily. "I'm going to bed," he said, heading into his room. As an afterthought, he stuck his head back out of his doorway. "And _please _don't bring up that whole blob thing again."


	35. First Meeting

_Hee. I bet everyone was wondering what first meetings were like, so...this one is set during DOOM (you could technically say it was at the beginning), and after this please go give my new story "Ghost in the Machine" some love._

* * *

Raphael had no idea what on earth he was supposed to do here.

When Dartz had originally summoned him, he had thought that perhaps there was some business involving another soul that needed capture; after all, that was what he was here to do. He honestly saw no other reason beyond that. The faster the world was purified, the better.

But when he had gone in the Great Hall, he received a bit of a surprise: next to his employer was a scowling boy that looked barely into his teens.

It seemed that he had a rough time of it, wherever he had been (Raphael suspected prison, given the fact the boy wore an orange jumpsuit); outside of the fact he was covered in dirt, his hands and face bore scratches of varying severity on them and his cerulean eyes watched Raphael intently. When he had come into the room, the boy stiffened abruptly and his hands clenched into fists. His hair both amused and stupefied Raphael—his brown hair defied gravity in five fluffy looking spikes.

The blonde had to force himself not to poke at the boy's hair; he was half tempted to, just to see if it would pop back into place.

"Raphael, we have another companion to join us," said Dartz simply, gesturing in a sweeping motion toward the boy beside him. "Would you show him to his quarters? His room is located in the same hall that yours and Alister's are in."

Granted, Raphael had heard about the fact that there was one more person they needed to find. Alister was here already; the redhead had arrived the day before yesterday, a silent and aloof young man with piercing gray eyes, but beyond a polite greeting he hadn't spoken to the blonde.

Dartz had not been there to greet the redhead (he had been gone three days before Alister had come), but he had informed Raphael before he left that he had found their third associate and would need to step out for a few days. Raphael had not expected that he would return with the scruffy looking teen, who now was eyeing the tough blonde warily.

"Valon, kindly wait outside the hall for a moment. I have to discuss something with Raphael," said Dartz calmly, but under the placid tone Raphael heard the firm order in his voice.

The brunette muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "Whatev'r" before stalking from the room.

Dartz had watched the boy go before turning to Raphael and stating quietly, "Raphael?"

The blonde, who had been watching the boy leave with concern of his own, started and replied, "Yes, Master Dartz?."

"…Keep an eye on our young friend. He has had a rough life thus far, if you could not tell from the garb he is in."

Raphael was surprised, to say the least, but he was not about to refuse the order given. "I'll make sure he's settles in," he replied at last.

But judging by that dark look the brunette had shot him, he could tell that it would be far from easy.

* * *

Outside the Great Hall, Valon leaned against a pillar beside the doorway and looked around at his surroundings, trying not to look interested.

This place was _weird_, he had to give it that. It appeared to be some kind of temple, like that one movie he'd seen back at prison…_Indiana Jones_, or something like that. And anyway, he had only seen the end of that movie, so it didn't make much sense.

But then again, Dartz didn't either.

That green-haired man had not only bailed him out of prison, but he had brought him here to work for him. Personally, he wanted to use that Orichalcos power that Dartz had given him on that island. There might have been something about some higher power that Dartz had been going on about, but Valon hadn't latched on to that part of the conversation.

It wasn't his fault that the man spoke in such long winded sentences and liked to use big words.

Valon's annoyance only seemed to increase as he stood out there, waiting for the man Dartz had been conversing with to show up. That one was someone he had every intention of keeping an eye on; the man he'd seen was tall and strongly muscled. Valon had met many people like him, and he knew better to underestimate them.

He slipped around the other side of the pillar, not quite immediately visible but still able to see the door. He hissed in pain as one of the bruises Valon had managed to hide from Dartz brushed against the wall; being in prison and in separate cells did not mean that he avoided fights. The first opportunity he had he would have to treat the wounds he had sustained.

"I'm sure you don't mean to pass yourself off as a creeper," came a flat-toned voice, and Valon jumped. His instincts kicking into action, he snarled as he swung around to face his opponent.

Seconds later he halted his attack.

Valon wasn't about to hit a sheila.

A tall, red-haired woman was looking at him boredly, gray eyes regarding him with cool disinterest. She wore a purple midriff-baring tank top with a pair of dark pants and a dark trenchcoat to complete it. "You're also violent, too," she said flatly.

"Sorry, miss," Valon muttered, looking away.

There was an icy silence, one that made Valon look up at her. He recoiled at the sheer hatred flashing in the slate-colored orbs. The redhead said venomously "I am _not _a woman."

The boy did a double take and blushed, realizing the error he had made. A weak, "Oh…" was all he managed to say. Then he bristled and said, "Why the devil 'r' you wearin' that get-up, then? I'd think on'y a sheila would wear a shirt that short."

"Says the one in a prisoner's garb," retorted the other male coldly.

Valon's eyes narrowed, but before he could react any further the redhead walked away from him and disappeared from view.

He stared where the man had vanished before growling angrily and punching the wall. Even here he was treated as a little kid; the men in the adult prison had always looked down on him, that Dartz bloke had sent him out of a room like a bad schoolboy, and that red-headed guy had patronized him. It was just _frustrating_!

"Last time I checked, punching the wall hurts."

Valon, thinking the redhead had returned, whirled around. But his eyes locked with a pair of ice-blue orbs and he realized that it was the blonde man from before. His eyes narrowed as the older man continued to look at him.

"What're you starin' a' me for?" snapped the boy, his Australian accent thick with anger and his eyes flashing. "I know that 'm dirty and need a bath."

"I was beginning to wonder where you came from," said the blonde, raising an eyebrow as he took in Valon's appearance. "You're from Australia."

"O' course 'm from Australia, idiot," snapped Valon angrily. "Wha' gave it away? The accent? 'N' what 'bout you, smarty pants? Where you from?

"I'm from France."

"…No you're not."

"Yes I am. I just lost the accent," said the man, beginning to walk away from him. After a moment, he turned around and Valon realized he was to follow him. Muttering, he shoved his hands in his pocket and followed.

There was a brief pause as they walked before the other man cleared his throat and said, "My name's Raphael, by the way."

Valon stopped, feeling surprised. "Really? I thought it would be Butch or summat like that."

It was Raphael's turn to stop and look back at him. "Most people seem to think that," he replied easily. "But then again, most people assume that I'm all muscle and no brain. They assume that my vocabulary is limited to 'zug zug,'" he finished, the last two words coming out in a low growl.

The brunette actually let out a surprised laugh, and the blonde once again turned his head to regard the teen with amusement. "So, from what Master Dartz said earlier, I take it your name is Valon," said Raphael.

"Yeah," said the Australian, surprised that the other man had been paying attention. He hesitated for a moment before he said, "You're actually a nice fella, not like that red-haired bloke from earlier."

"Alister? So you bumped into him already?"

"Yeah, an' lemme tell ya, 'e 'ad me thinkin' 'e was a sheila!" said Valon indignantly. "Why on earth does 'e dress up like that, if 'e doesn't want to be called a lady?"

Raphael shook his head. "How he dresses is not my concern."

"'e's gonna get mistaken for a sheila and then some poor bloke's gonna ask 'im out," the teen muttered.

"'Some poor bloke' already has. From what I heard, Alister drop-kicked him and then broke his nose."

Valon blinked. "So…'e can fight, then," he said, eyes lighting up at the prospect.

Raphael had spotted the look. "No you don't. No fighting in here—we're work partners, not street brawlers."

Valon snorted. "'m not one of those crazy fellas that goes around lookin' for trouble. I jus' like t' be able t' defend myself, is all."

"I highly doubt that either you or Alister are going to fight to the point that you result to blows," replied Raphael calmly. "You're safe here."

The teen snorted. "Safety is an illusion, chum," he said darkly. "The only way to stay safe is if you squash whatev'r tries to squash you."

Raphael stopped walking, causing Valon to inadvertently bump into him. The younger teen rubbed his nose and looked up at the man (inwardly cursing his height). He was surprised by the look on the older man's face.

"I don't know what you've been through, but I can say this much—as long as you are in this place, you have no reason to distrust any of us," said Raphael firmly, his eyes looking into Valon's.

The teen looked back at him warily for a moment. He was about to retort when he noticed the look in the older man's eyes. Raphael…he _meant _it. He meant what he said; there was nothing in his eyes to suggest otherwise.

After one more moment of silence, Valon said, "I'm not gonna trust ya right off the bat."

Raphael said nothing, watching him intently.

"But…y'know, I can give it a try. The worst that can 'appen is that I end up back at prison," he said with a shrug. "So…I guess you'd call this a truce, huh, Raph?"

The older man's eyebrows arched in surprise at the shortened version of his name, but said nothing about it when he spoke again. "You could call it that," he agreed amicably. "Now come on. I'm sure you want to get out of those clothes; you did mention that you needed a bath earlier."

Valon hesitated for one more moment, but followed after the blonde anyway. This man was nicer than most, but it didn't mean he was going to trust him right away; too many people had betrayed his trust.

He found, however, that Raphael was nicer than most of the people he'd met. It wouldn't hurt to get acquainted with him, after all—he could certainly use an ally in this place.

"Don' you expect me t' be all friendly, though," he said, placing his hands on his hips and scowling. "I don' want friends, so don' try t' be one!"

Raphael shrugged. "If you say so."


	36. Snowfall

_You know, I said I wasn't going to update anything until my midterms were over, but my plotbunnies don't listen to me all that well._

_This one is set during DOOM (you can say this happens before "Happy New Year!), and visit my newest poll (funny enough, Gentleshipping and Fillershipping tied)._

* * *

"AAAAAH!"

The scream startled Alister from slumber, and the redhead nearly did a face plant as he hastily scrambled out of bed. He got to his bedroom door and pulled it open, trying to figure out what had happened. Was the temple under attack? Did someone with a gun get into the temple? Had Gurimo finally snapped?

Alister's thoughts were cut short as something short and blurry collided into him and he toppled to the floor. Wincing and muttering under his breath, he looked to see who had run into him.

…Why wasn't he surprised to see Valon sprawled across his lap?

"Get off me," he snapped, shoving the teenager off of him. "What are you screaming about?" he continued, realizing that it had been Valon who had yelled.

Valon looked up at him with panicked eyes. "The world's endin'!" he said, scrambling to his feet and nearly trampling Alister as he disappeared into his own room.

Alister debated on waking up Raphael to deal with the teenager, decided against it, got to his feet, and followed Valon into his room. It took him a bit to figure out where Valon had vanished off to (the Australian could squeeze himself into the tiniest places without too much discomfort) before he bent down and peered at the space under the bedside cabinet. He spotted a familiar pair of blue eyes watching him with fright.

"What do you mean the world's ending?" he asked with a sigh.

"You 'eard me th' first time," said Valon, a tremor in his voice. "The world's endin'."

The older biker frowned. "Speak logically."

"Ou'side. All white. World's endin'," the Australian said again.

Deciding he wasn't going to get a coherent response from the younger teenager, the red-haired man walked to Valon's window and pulled up the blinds. He blinked against the sudden whiteness from outside and stared at the landscape with surprise. He didn't think he would see _this_ on an island off the coast Florida, but then again the island where the temple was wasn't exactly normal.

"Valon, the world isn't ending," he said in exasperation.

"Then wha's all tha' white stuff?!"

"Snow."

Valon peered around the corner of the dresser with a frown. "Wha's snow?" he asked, curiosity overcoming his fear and he slipped out from his hiding place to go to the window.

Alister raised an eyebrow. "That would certainly explain why you thought the world was ending," he said, rolling his gray eyes.

The Australian scowled. "'S'not m' fault! 'ow th' 'eck was I s'pposed t' know that it was snow?" he snapped defensively, putting his hands on his hips. "''ve never seen it before!"

At the comment, Alister turned to his younger companion with a faint amount of disbelief. "How do you not know what snow is? Haven't you ever seen a snow globe? Or snow men? Or even a snow-cone?"

"It doesn' bloody _snow_ in _Australia_!" Valon said irritably.

Alister rolled his eyes again, grabbing Valon by the wrist and dragging him out of the bedroom. "Come on," he said flatly, ignoring Raphael (who had just come out of his room) and marching purposefully down the stairs and to the nearest side entrance. After fiddling with the lock, he opened the door wide and stepped aside.

Valon, allowing Alister to drag him along mainly because he couldn't react fast enough, shrugged his arm free of the older biker and cautiously poked his head outside, shivering as the cold air hit his face. Outside was nothing but a white blanket for as far as the eye could see, lumps of objects left outside breaking up the otherwise flat landscape.

He frowned thoughtfully as he stepped on the frozen surface of the stairs, then yelped in surprise as his skin came in contact with the frozen surface. "COLD!"

"Obviously, Valon. Snow is nothing more than frozen water—it's going to be cold," replied Alister calmly. He noticed a movement out of the corner of his eye and turned in time to spot Raphael coming down the stairs. "It snowed here last night."

"So I noticed," replied the blonde, suppressing a yawn before holding up Valon's and Alister's boots. "If you're going outside, then you might want to put these on," he said.

Valon took the boots from the eldest of the bikers and pulled them on before once again padding to the door. The teen once again stuck his head out the door, looking around him cautiously, and Raphael suddenly felt the irresistible urge to push the boy out the door and into the nearest snow pile.

Raphael gave up on resisting the urge and shoved Valon outside.

A highly undignified yelp came from Valon as he landed in the nearest snow drift only to emerge seconds later, brushing the snow frantically off of him. "Cold cold cold COLD!"

After all the snow was off, Valon turned around and glared at the older bikers. "All righ', which one o' ya did it?" he asked dangerously.

Alister, who hadn't quite grasped the fact that his normally well-behaved friend had just shoved the young Australian into the snow (which, actually, was what he had been about to do) didn't get a chance to reply as Raphael mutely pointed at the redhead. This surprised both Alister—who knew for a fact that Raphael didn't like to lie—and Raphael himself, who was surprised by the simple gut-jerk reaction.

Valon's eyes narrowed. "Why 'm I not surprised?"

"Wait half a minute," said Alister indignantly. "Sure, I was thinking it! I didn't actually do it—Raphael did!"

"Raph wouldn' do that t' me!" snapped Valon, and without thinking about it he bent down, scooped a pile of snow into his hands, and tossed it at Alister. The hastily made snowball hit the red-haired teen in the center of his face, half of it falling down his shirt front.

…Honestly, neither Raphael nor Valon knew that such an unearthly shriek could come from their stoic companion.

Alister did a frantic sort of dance, getting the snowball out of his shirt before rounding on Valon with a snarl; the teenager had doubled over in laughter and hadn't noticed that the redhead was now glaring at him. Raphael, the original instigator behind it all, was fighting back the laughter. The redhead regarded them coolly for the next few seconds before he pulled his own boots on and stepped outside as well, scooping a handful of snow into his bare hands. Compacting the snow into a tight ball, he took aim and then threw it at the back of Valon's head.

The teenager fell over from the impact of the snowball, doing a faceplant in the snow, and he turned to face Alister with an indignant glare. Raphael was surprised again—he hadn't honestly expected the quiet and serious man to actually throw a snowball.

"That was weak," said Alister critically, gathering more snow into his hands and making another snowball. "Much too loose and mushy. A snowball isn't like that."

"I told ya b'fore I 'aven' seen—GAH!" Valon yelped, ducking the snowball. He looked over at Alister, who was making another snowball, before he grinned and said, "If tha's the way you wanna play it…"

He bent down and also gathered more snow into his hands, sending it back at Alister—which once again hit him in the face.

Raphael started laughing at the sight of Alister getting another face full of snow, but the redhead brushed the snow from his face and glared at him. He said severely, "You're next."

The blonde man had just enough time to realize that Alister was serious before he ducked the very well aimed snowball and decided to take sanctuary in the kitchen. When his younger companions were done outside they would need warming up from the cold, and he would be ready with the hot cocoa.

...Raphael would tell Valon who really had shoved him after the Australian was sufficiently worn out.


	37. Valentine Kitten

_On a quick note: I technically stole someone from Alister's Girlfriend in this one. The name, at least, does not belong to me; the type does, though, since it isn't the same kind as AG has._

_…That's going to make a whole lot more sense once you've read it._

_Post-DOOM once again, and Gentleshipping is here once again (I hope I did it right—I can't write romance to save my life). Call this the Valentine's Day shot._

* * *

On a cold and wet Thursday evening, things were not quite normal in the biker's home. Alister was out at the family center, leaving Raphael and Valon at home, and as for their feline member of the family…

"Misa, what the devil's up with ya?" asked Valon, noticing the way the petite kitten was pawing urgently at the door. The four month old feline looked up at him urgently, letting out a plaintive meow before once again pawing at the door.

"What's wrong with Misa?" asked Raphael, coming out of the kitchen and drying his hands on a dishtowel.

"I dunno," said Valon. "I reckon it's somethin' outside."

He went to the door and pulled it open cautiously. The cat instantly shoved her way past Valon's legs and ran around to the side of the house.

"'Ey! Misa!" cried Valon, slipping out after the kitten.

Raphael had spotted Misa leaving and he went for the hall closet, picking up the flashlight and putting on a coat before following Valon out the door. He shut the door behind him before looking around. "Valon?" he called, flicking on the flashlight. "Where are you?"

"O'er 'ere, Raph," came the reply from the left side of the front porch, and the blonde man shone the light toward the sound. He rounded the corner of the house and shone his flashlight at the area.

In the light of the flashlight, he saw that Valon was lying flat on his stomach in the wet grass, the upper half of his body underneath the porch. The older man frowned. "Valon, you're going to have to change out of those clothes, you know."

"I know."

"Did Misa go under there?" asked Raphael, getting on his knees beside the teen.

"Yeah, she—'ey, Raph, lemme see your flashlight f'r a minute," said Valon suddenly, an odd note in his voice.

Raphael did not object, instead shining the flashlight into the crevice that Valon was immersed in. "Do you see her?"

The Australian did not immediately reply.

"Valon?" asked the blonde. "What's wrong?"

"Raph…come look a' this."

Frowning, Raphael got down beside Valon and peered into the underside of the patio. He stared intently into the interior of the dark space, investigating the area lit by the flashlight; he was about to ask Valon just what the Australian had seen when the older biker noticed three pairs of luminescent orbs staring back at him.

As his eyes adjusted, he realized that one of those pairs belonged to Misa.

"Are those what I think they are?" he asked, carefully reaching a hand inside the crevice for Misa.

In reply, a very small kitten mewled pitifully, waddling to the blonde's hand and rubbing against it. Raphael's hand closed over the tiny animal and he carefully brought it out from under the porch into the open night air; he couldn't tell what coloring that the kitten had, since it was covered in dirt. The feline was smaller than Misa, small enough to possibly fit in a coffee mug.

Misa came out shortly after Raphael had pulled the first kitten out from under the porch, dragging the second weakly protesting kitten out by the scruff of its neck. Valon took the second one from Misa, keeping a careful hold on the squirming feline. "Are these hers?" he asked in disbelief, looking at Raphael for an explanation.

"I don't believe so," replied Raphael at last, situating the kitten in the crook of his arm. "For one thing, they look nothing like her, and for another Misa has been inside the house since we got her. Let's make sure that there aren't any more out here, and then let's get them inside—it's far too cold for them to be out here."

Misa followed after the two bikers, looking up at the tiny bundles of fur that they were carrying and meowing comfortingly to the kittens. Raphael looked down at the other cat and said, "Good girl, Misa."

* * *

Alister raised an eyebrow as he stood in the doorway. "Mind explaining?" he asked, dipping his head toward the tiny kitten that Raphael was holding.

"Misa found them," replied Raphael, absently using his finger to rub the top of the kitten's head. The little creature closed its eyes contentedly; it was feeling better after it had gotten a warm bath and some milk in its system.

"Poor li'l tykes were unner our porch," Valon said, watching as the other kitten tried to scramble out of the medium-sized box that it had been set in. It let out a loud meow and Misa instantly hopped into the box. She purred comfortingly, beginning to groom it.

The two bundles of fur were a mixture of blacks and grays. The darker of the two was entirely black; Misa was grooming that one at the moment. The other one, located in Raphael's hand, was a smoky gray color. Both kittens had deep blue eyes, and Raphael figured that they were just barely eight weeks old.

Alister hung his coat on the coat rack and sat down in the nearest unoccupied seat. "What about their mother?"

"Me 'n' Raph looked around f'r a mama kitty, but we couldn't find one," said Valon simply.

"Speaking of which, what are we going to do with two more cats?" asked Alister.

This was indeed an interesting question to answer. Though the three bikers did not entirely mind having more cats (Misa seemed to appreciate the feline company) they really could not afford to keep both of the kittens. Raphael flat out refused to take them to the nearest animal shelter; though they were eight weeks the kittens were still way too young to be left in such a dreadful place. After Valon placed a quick call to the Ishtars at least one of the kittens had a home to go to, but then there was the dilemma about the second kitten's place.

Valon frowned, and then suddenly his eyes lit up. "I got it!" he cried, running past Alister and out into the hallway to pick up the phone. He rushed up the stairs, two at a time, and disappeared into his room.

"Where's he going?" asked Raphael, rising to his feet and keeping the small kitten in his hand. The tiny creature refused to be set down at all, and Raphael had been forced to carry the little kitten around with him.

"I don't know," replied Alister, perplexed.

Fifteen minutes later, Valon returned downstairs. "I found a 'ome f'r the other kitty that Marik doesn' take," he said cheerfully, gesturing to the kittens.

Raphael raised an eyebrow. "Who did you call?"

* * *

"Oh," Shizuka breathed, cradling the squirming kitten against her chest. The kitten's dark fur stood out against the girl's chestnut hair and her fair complexion. "They're so little…how old are they?"

"Raph reckons they're jus' past eight weeks, so they should be able to 'ave solid foods," said Valon cheerfully, placing his hands behind his head.

When he had been thinking about a home for the kittens, he remembered that his lovely girlfriend adored baby animals and most likely would take one of the felines in. After calling Ms. Kawai to gain permission (because she _was_ Shizuka's mother, after all) and letting Marik know that he could come by later on in the day, he had called Shizuka and had asked her to come over to "see somethin' I found."

The girl's green-gray eyes looked up at Valon. "Is the one I'm holding a girl or a boy?" she asked.

Valon blinked. "…T' be honest, I don' rightly know—"

"The black one's a boy, the gray one is a girl," said Alister as he passed the couple to disappear into the kitchen. He returned with a glass of water and passed by them, disappearing up the stairs and presumably going into his room.

Shizuka looked down thoughtfully at the black kitten and said after a moment, "Jiji."

When the Australian looked over at her in bewilderment, the girl giggled. "His name, silly. I'm going to call this one Jiji," she said, dipping her head to the dark kitten in her arms.

Valon hesitated a moment before a grin split his face. "Seems t' suit him some, don' it?" he asked.

Shizuka nodded, readjusting her grip on the newly named Jiji. "I don't know what to call his sister, though," she said, a slight frown marring her features.

"'S'all righ'. 'm sure you'll think o' somethin' for the little sheila."

Shizuka smiled, keeping her grip on Jiji as she gently rubbed the top of his head. "They're both so adorable," she cooed, her smile growing as Jiji playfully nibbled on her finger. She looked at Valon after a moment and hesitantly asked, "Would it be all right…if I took one of them home with me?"

The brunette laughed. "Why do ya think I invited you over 'ere, Shizuka? I was 'opin' you'd take one of the little mates back with ya; me 'n' the fellas can' keep both of 'em. Tha's why I called your mum and asked 'er if it was all right," he replied in amusement.

Shizuka stared back in surprise before a smile graced her features and she cuddled the kitten close to her. "Thank you," she said warmly, looking over the top of the kitten's head at the teenager. "He's just in time for Valentine's Day."

Valon flushed and rubbed the back of his head. "You're welcome," he said with a grin. "I figured it'd be somethin' you'd like, since you always 'ang onto Misa whenever you're over 'ere; and yeah, Valentine's Day's nearly 'ere. I 'ad t' get ya somethin'."

The auburn haired girl's smile grew and she said nothing further, continuing to cuddle with Jiji.

A thought occurred to Valon and he looked at Jiji. He said sternly, "You're t' annoy Jounouchi as much as humanly possible, kitty."


	38. Happy Birthday, Raphael!

_Second shot written for Alister's Girlfriend, post-DOOM once again, and a happy birthday to Raphael!_

* * *

Poke.

"Raph?"

Poke poke.

"Raaaph…"

Groan. "V'lon? Wha…?"

"I got a couple o' questions that need answerin', and I was wonderin' if you could answer 'em," said the voice in a low but cheerful voice.

"…huh?"

"How old are you, and when's your birthday?"

Blink.

"S'ry?" A groggy voice asked in confusion.

"When. Is. Your. Birthday?" The voice asked again, impatiently.

A pair of sleepy, ice blue eyes looked up at a vague and blurry outline of his youngest friend. "…Cou'dn' 'is wa't 'til 'm 'wake?"

"Nup. It's kinda urgent."

"…Bir'day's M'rch fifteenth. 'M twen'y three."

"Thanks, mate. You can go back to sleep, now."

The blonde blearily watched the teenager leave the room, making a mental note to ask him _why_ he needed to know when his birthday was at this ungodly hour, before rolling over and almost immediately returning to sleep.

Outside of Raphael's room, a certain brunette hurried down the hall and tapped lightly at a closed bedroom door. When the wooden door opened, the teenager grinned and flashed a sleepy red-haired young man a thumbs up. "Told ya 'e wouldn' get suspicious."

"…you do realize the only reason he didn't ask you was because he wasn't awake enough to understand the question, right?" asked Alister, suppressing a yawn with the back of his hand as he allowed Valon in the room.

Valon waved a hand at Alister dismissively. "'S'all good, chum," he said cheerily, flopping on the end Alister's previously occupied bed. Pulling out a notepad that had been laying on the bedside table, he wrote in big letters, "BIRTHDAY GIFTS" and said, "Now, what should we get him?"

"The fact that it's four o'clock in the morning is apparently lost on you," commented Alister dryly as he seated himself lightly in a chair positioned near his desk.

"Yup," chirped Valon buoyantly, somehow actively hyper despite the late hour.

"I don't understand how on earth you can be so awake at this time of the morning, yet any other time we try to wake you up you fall right back to sleep."

Valon shrugged. "Curiosity killed the kitty, chum."

Alister raised an eyebrow. "Stupidity killed the cat. Curiosity was framed."

The Australian scowled, but nonetheless set the notepad down and said, "So, how are we gonna get this done? Raph said that 'is birthday's the fifteenth. That's four days—"

"No it's not," said Alister flatly. "It's three."

The brunette blinked. "…Huh?"

"You haven't been watching your calendar, have you? Today's the twelfth."

The teenager shrugged. "So we've got 'til Raph's birthday to figure out somethin' t' do."

"'We'? What's with this 'we' stuff?" retorted Alister. "You're the one who wants to celebrate his birthday. Did it ever occur to you that he might not _want_ to celebrate it?"

"'ow come?" challenged Valon. "Wha' kinda person doesn' like their birthday? Outside of you. You don' count."

"Valon, when did the cruise liner that Raphael was on sink?"

"I dunno, I thought it sank on 'is…oh. _Oh._"

The redhead nodded. "Now do you remember why?"

Valon sighed. "Well, I kinda forgot 'bout that, didn' I?" he asked, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

"Yes you did," agreed Alister calmly, grabbing Valon by his arm and escorting the teen to the door. "Now do me a huge favor and go to bed like a normal person."

Valon blinked, and before he could properly protest the door to Alister's bedroom closed.

The Australian frowned, slightly grateful that Alister hadn't locked him the closet again. He returned to his bedroom and sat on the bed, writing his plans on the notepad. While it was true that Raphael had lost his family on his birthday, that did not mean that the older blonde was going to be allowed to simply pretend his birthday did not exist.

Valon would not allow it, and—though he did not act like he cared—Alister would not either.

* * *

Raphael knew something was up.

He was currently was on his way home from his job, pondering over that thought absently. The workload had increased lately and Raphael was tired. But as he drove back toward their home, he could not help but muse over the strange events that had been happening around his home as of late.

For reasons he could not fathom, both Alister and Valon seemed to be up to something. Over the past three days, the two of them had suddenly become closer friends—every time Raphael walked into wherever the younger bikers were congregated, it was to find that the two of them were huddled over some object that would disappear the moment he announced his presence. Raphael had not had to break up an argument at all, and while it was a welcome reprieve he had to wonder why.

Valon and Alister had also disappeared at random times of the day, returning with bags that were surreptitiously hidden beneath their coats, and Raphael had been asked about what he had liked or disliked so often over the past two days that he felt like they could write a book about it.

There was a nagging thought in the back of his mind, one that he could not quite grasp; it had something to do with a VERY early morning conversation. Raphael knew Valon had come into his bedroom for something a couple of days ago, but his mind did not work very well in the morning when it was half clouded with sleep. He had asked Valon about it when he had woken up, but the teenager had denied the occurrence adamantly, making the blonde wonder if he had just dreamed the whole thing.

His birthday was coming up, that was another thing. It was hard to believe that he was turning twenty-four; the years certainly had passed since the cruise—

Raphael blocked the thought that had been coming. True, he'd gotten over the stigma that his birthday represented, but he was still hurting even now and wasn't sure what he was going to do about that day. He figured he would let it slip by unannounced, like he always had.

As Raphael pulled the car into the driveway, he blinked in surprise. "What the…?"

Balloons of varying colors had been painstakingly taped to his motorcycle. There were what appeared to be streamers that were also wrapped around the handlebars of the bike, and as he stepped out of the car he noticed that star-shaped confetti had been liberally poured over it.

Officially confused, he stepped closer to inspect his motorcycle, hoping that it would offer a clue as to what was going on. There was no note of explanation on it at all, and Raphael was baffled. He wondered if hoodlums had…but, no, they wouldn't do this. The perpetrator would have stolen the motorcycle, not decorate it.

Deciding that Alister and Valon knew something about the condition of his motorcycle, he walked up the sidewalk leading to the door, raising an eyebrow as he noticed a similar decoration pattern running all the way up the sidewalk. He reached into his pocket for the house key and slipped it into the lock, opening the door with something akin to caution.

He wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but Raphael was definitely not planning on having poppers go off in his face.

Instinctively he backed away from the explosive sounds, actually letting out a startled cry as his foot caught on the doorstep and he fell backward. He managed to regain his balance before he would have fallen down the stairs and then stared at the door warily.

"I told you the poppers were a little much," said Alister's voice flatly, and then the two younger bikers appeared in the doorway. Valon had a trademark grin in place, holding what had once been a popper.

"No they weren'. You just don' like anythin' that blows up," the teenager retorted, cuffing Alister on the shoulder.

"I tend not to like _anything_ that goes 'boom' when the object in question is in _your_ hands."

Raphael just stared back at them in bewilderment, his mind scrambling to figure out what the heck had just happened. He mutely looked to Alister for an explanation.

Valon beat the redhead to the punch, though. "'Appy Birthday, Raph!" he chirped, a goofy grin in place.

The blonde blinked again. His birthday was _today_? Raphael had not really celebrated it, not since…well, not for several years. But he was usually on top of remembering when his birthday was. Had he truly neglected to remember it this time?

"We even got ya a cake 'n' everythin'!" Valon continued. "So get on in 'ere so we can eat it!"

He hesitated for one last moment, uncertain as to what he should do, before he noticed that both of the younger bikers were watching him—they understood why he looked so lost.

After one final moment of hesitation, Raphael chuckled. "You two are going to have to clean my motorcycle up later, you know that?"

The younger bikers noticeably relaxed and Valon bounded off to the kitchen. "C'mon, Raph! Th' cake's a-callin'!"

"…I think he suggested the cake just because he likes it," muttered Alister under his breath, turning for the kitchen. Valon was waiting in the doorway for the elder bikers, watching them impatiently.

Raphael shook his head, padding down the hall to the kitchen. This was certainly different than the other birthdays he'd celebrated on his own…and it was a welcome change.


	39. Intruder

_This one hit me very very hard over the head, and I had no choice but to write it. I promise that there will be a further explanation behind this one, but for now content yourselves with this._

_Post-DOOM, and a translation will be at the bottom (when you come to the part, you'll understand)._

* * *

Alister frowned as the front door opened, looking away from the television set to look at the front entry way; he'd been watching a show he was currently interested in, with the main character being some guy with a cane.

Valon was over at the Ishtar's house at the moment, helping Marik with the now month old kitten they'd taken in (whom Marik's older sister had christened Bastet), and after glancing at the clock Alister realized that it was far too early for Raphael to be home from work. Frowning, he shut the TV off and rose to his feet, beginning heading for the doorway.

Misa's head snapped up abruptly and the cat's ears flattened against her head, her fur rising and puffing out. The cat, who had been perfectly calm and collected where she sat on the window seat, rarely did that at all; she was friendly to most anyone (an exception being to the Angliss', whom she harbored a particular hatred for), and it put the redhead on the alert. He stopped walking immediately, running through the list of who it could possibly be.

Valon always entered the house with some loud salutation, and it was easy to tell when the boy was coming; loud footsteps on the porch gave him away long before he touched the doorknob. Marik and Shizuka, regardless of whether or not the door was unlocked, always rang the doorbell or knocked on the door to be let in. Raphael usually had a house key with him, so he could always get in easily.

Someone else was here. Someone unfriendly, judging by Misa's behavior.

He debated for a moment, hoping against hope that it was someone friendly in the front hallway. He silently padded to the doorway and stood there, listening intently to whoever it was that was in their home. All the hair on the back of his neck was prickling unpleasantly, and his body was tense.

Did he have some kind of weapon with him? Alister inwardly cursed as he realized that he had nothing against this intruder. He didn't have time to think, however, before the figure moved into his line of sight.

The man was taller than he was, draped in a cloak and the hood shadowing his face. Alister's nose wrinkled in distaste from the smell coming off of the cloak; the man wearing it probably hadn't gotten a shower in months. He thought he caught a gleam of something glass-like from beneath the hood, but he didn't quite see what it was.

The other man hadn't been expecting Alister to be right there in the doorway, because he jumped and nearly lost his balance. It jolted Alister back into action, because his gray eyes narrowed and he said coldly, "Who are you?"

The other man regained his poise and laughed unpleasantly. "Who am I?" he asked bitterly, a hint of madness in his voice. "It figures. Of course you wouldn't remember me. You never cared about anything didn't you? Always holed up in your room like some reclusive hermit, staying away from your friends as if you were better than they were."

Alister bristled, not liking anything about his situation. He was aware that he was unarmed against this opponent, who seemed to know him from somewhere, and the redhead did not like the fact that this man seemed to be slightly touched in the head. "I'll ask again: who are you?" he demanded.

The other man's bitter laughter stopped abruptly looked at Alister from beneath the hood. "If you don't remember me, why should I tell you?"

The cloaked man's hand rose, and Alister had a three second impression of something metallic and black being leveled with his head before he realized that it was a gun.

The situation had gone from bad to worse.

* * *

Valon's head shot up as an explosive crack reverberated through the open window.

He'd been sitting on the floor of the Ishtar's family room, watching Marik entertain Bastet with a piece of string, when he'd heard the sound. Marik immediately dropped the string, looking at Valon for an explanation. "Was that a…" he began uncertainly.

Hurried footsteps came down the hall and Marik's older sister appeared in the doorway of the room. "Are you boys all right?" Ishizu asked breathlessly, her normally composed face filled with fear. Rishid appeared behind her, his golden eyes scanning the room intently. He relaxed when there was no sign of trouble.

"We're fine, sister," said Marik shakily. "That came from outside."

Rishid frowned. "I will go outside and see what has happened," he said, disappearing from view.

"_Khaly balak, akhi_," murmured Ishizu worriedly, watching her brother go.

Valon had risen to his feet, wondering if maybe someone had set off a firecracker in the neighborhood, and he looked out the window. His cerulean eyes searched the surrounding area for any sign of the one responsible, frowning when he could not find anyone. A couple of neighbors were outside now as well, doing a similar search. "I don' see any sign of—"

Valon's sentence halted as his gaze went to his own house and he felt the color drain from his face.

The front door was wide open.

Without another word the Australian ran for the door, ignoring Marik and Ishizu's startled cries as he passed them, throwing open the front door and passing Rishid as he took off for home. He ignored everything around him until he was at the front door, gasping for breath as he stood in it. "Alister!" he yelled once he caught his breath. "Alister! Where are ya?!"

Misa abruptly ran from the family room, skidding to a halt in front of Valon and meowing urgently before returning to the room. Feeling sick, Valon hurried after her and into the room.

His breath caught in his throat.

The room looked as if a whirlwind had hit it. The couch was knocked over, the cushions scattered across the room. Broken glass was on the floor everywhere, along with miscellaneous objects; tables were overturned and the lamp had shattered.

There was no sign of anyone in the room.

"Alister!" Valon shouted hoarsely, his legs trembling. He felt oddly light-headed as he stared at the mess. He strode forward, making himself move to the room. "Alister, c'mon! Where are ya, chum!?"

Misa meowed urgently, pawing at something beneath the overturned sofa, and Valon hurried to it. A gasp issued from his throat when he saw a limp hand stick out from beneath it and he pushed the piece of furniture away with a burst of strength.

Alister was lying on his side, pale and unmoving. A bruise was already visible on his cheek and a large gash was across his forehead, bleeding freely. Valon could see no other injuries on him, but it didn't mean anything to him if Alister was dead.

Footsteps came from behind him and Valon turned in time to see Rishid enter the room. "Are you all right?" asked the Egyptian, noticing him almost immediately.

"'m fine, but Alister's not," said Valon anxiously, watching as Rishid hurried over to them. "'e's 'urt."

Rishid bent down beside the redhead, gently placing his fingers on Alister's throat and remaining silent for a few moments. Valon looked at Alister worriedly and relaxed when he saw no bullet holes in his best friend.

The Egyptian man relaxed and looked to the boy a few minutes later. "He is only unconscious. It is not safe here, though. The intruder could still be nearby; I will take him back to our home and have your neighbors notify the authorities."

As Rishid finished speaking he carefully gathered Alister's lanky form into his arms and rose to his feet, readjusting his balance and then swiftly leaving the room. Valon picked up Misa but touched nothing else, remembering something about leaving the crime scene alone. He hurried after the older Egyptian, who had stopped briefly at the sidewalk and was conferring with a concerned-looking woman. Noticing the Australian following after him, Rishid finished the conversation and continued on his way back to the house.

Ishizu was at the front door already, holding it open as the two of them slipped into the house. Rishid carried Alister into the family room, depositing him on the sofa before returning to the front hallway; Valon could hear Rishid conversing in Arabic with Ishizu, most likely relaying what had happened.

"Is he all right?" asked Marik worriedly, coming over to them.

"I dunno. 'e looks like 'e got conked over th' 'ead, but…" Valon trailed off, biting his bottom lip anxiously as he stared down at the motionless man. He bent down beside the other biker and shook his shoulder urgently. "Alister...c'mon, chum, say somethin'."

A weak moan came from the redhead and one gray eye slid open. "Somethin'," Alister murmured dazedly, looking up at Valon and Marik with glassy eyes.

Relief crashed through him in waves and Valon asked, "You okay, chum?"

Alister coughed, managing to glare at Valon. "Does it look like I'm all right?" he muttered, raising an eyebrow. He sat up on the sofa weakly, wincing as his head let out an almighty throb, and one of his hands went to his head.

Ishizu came into the room with a first aid kit, looking relieved that Alister was awake. "You've been injured," she said matter-of-factly, setting the first aid kit on the end table and taking a few things out from it. "If you are up to it, you need to sit up a bit more and I will treat your injuries."

Alister nodded, cautiously allowing himself to sit up further and moving slowly; sitting up too fast would make him dizzy, and that was the last thing he needed. Ishizu sat down beside him, carefully beginning to dab at the cut on his head with an antiseptic pad.

"Wha' 'appened t' ya, mate?" demanded Valon.

The redhead frowned, recalling only scattered memories about the encounter. "Someone broke into the house…the front door opened," he said, struggling to remember. "He had a gun, and he tried to take a shot at me. I didn't let him pull the trigger…I tackled him…the gun went off by accident, and then…nothing."

The sound of police sirens filtered through the window and Marik went to it, looking outside. He nodded in satisfaction as police cars pulled up at the house and closed the window; he doubted the noise was helping Alister any.

Alister's frown deepened and he looked to Valon from beneath Ishizu's hands. "Have you called Raphael yet?" he asked.

Valon shook his head mutely. "I was more worried 'bout you, Alister."

"Go ahead and call him," said Alister wearily. "I doubt he wants to pull up in the driveway just to see crime scene tape across our door."

He needed to talk to the older blonde as soon as humanly possible. The attacker had known all three of them, and he had a sinking feeling that this would not be the last time to hear from that man.

* * *

_Ishizu's sentence was spoken in Arabic (forgive me if I am off a bit in the translation; you'd be surprised at how difficult it was to find a decent web translator), and what she said was, "Be careful, brother."_


	40. The Intruder Returns

_I am rather amused by how many private messages I got that concerned the last update, and I figured it was only fair to reward it with a sequel to the previous chapter. There's a third part to this on the way, so don't panic. THIS IS NOT ONE OF THE STORY ARCS._

* * *

"So you have no idea of who it could be?"

Alister shook his head, wincing as the motion aggravated the injury. "I'm afraid not. I didn't quite catch anything that would identify him for me, except for the fact that he knew who we were."

Shortly after Alister had regained consciousness Valon had called Raphael and had let him know what had happened. The blonde had left work almost immediately after that call, returning home fifteen minutes after the redhead had been attacked.

It was late at night now, and the bikers were spending it in a nearby hotel; after what had happened that afternoon, Raphael was not going to allow the intruder a chance to do it again. The police had promised to leave one of their patrolmen in the neighborhood to make sure that no one tried to get back into the house, and the Ishtars had agreed to watch Misa until they returned the following morning.

So far, they had been trying to come up with who it could have possibly been that had intruded in their home. Valon had dropped off to sleep about an hour ago and was sprawled out across the sofa, leaving the two older bikers awake in the hotel room to speculate upon the issue at hand.

They had narrowed the perpetrator down to someone that must have been with them back in DOOM, but they had said nothing to the police about their suspicions; they had no way to prove it and even if it was none of the lower DOOM operatives knew about their current home. Only Dartz and the three bikers knew about the safe house, so for the moment they left DOOM out of the picture.

…Also, it would be awkward to explain to the police about DOOM.

Raphael ran a hand through his cropped hair, looking over at Alister. "Was Valon able to see who it was?"

"No. He was at the Ishtar's house at the time, and thank goodness for that," replied the younger biker, tilting his head back against the chair and closing his eyes to alleviate some of the throbbing in his skull. "I just wish I'd made myself scarce."

"I don't think you were intending to get hit over the head," said Raphael with tired amusement. His smile faded after a moment and he looked at Alister intently. "Are you all right, though? You could have been shot."

The red-haired young man lifted his head up again to stare back at Raphael. "I could have, but I didn't," he agreed calmly, a slight frown marring his features. "That's what's troubling me. He wasn't after me."

Raphael frowned as well. "What?"

"I tackled him and brought him down to the ground, but it wasn't too long after the gun misfired when he got it back and hit me with it. I was starting to go unconscious, but I heard him well enough: 'You're not the one I'm after.'"

Alister hesitated after that statement, looking at where Valon was softly snoring on the sofa. "Whoever it was could have been sent by the Angliss'," he said in a low voice, making sure that the statement did not awaken the Australian.

Raphael's eyes darkened at the thought. "It's possible," he said in just as low of a voice, looking at Valon when the boy shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. The teen muttered in a low and unintelligible voice before rolling onto his side and lying still.

The blonde sighed, leaning back in the hotel armchair and mentally sorting through the information that he had been given. "I thought this mess was put behind us last month," he growled. "If they are responsible for this, why do something like breaking and entering and endanger getting Valon back?"

Alister shook his head. "I don't think the Angliss' themselves were in the house," he said simply. "Mr. Angliss was a short little weenie. This guy was taller than I was and he might also be taller than you, though I'd have to see it for myself. But you may be right about them possibly being involved—this happened all too soon after they lost the custody battle."

Raphael sighed again, feeling frustrated. "What bothers me is that this person was able to waltz right into the house without any of the neighbors seeing him and he attacked you. You could have been killed, and if Valon was in the house he could have gotten hurt too."

The red-haired biker, who had been slumping into the armchair wearily, abruptly sat up and looked at the older biker with wide eyes. "Wait a minute…the door was unlocked."

Raphael raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"No, you don't understand. I locked the door after Valon left for the Ishtar's house; call me paranoid, but I don't like the idea of people being able to just walk on in without a care in the world. Whoever attacked me got in through the front door without kicking it down."

The burly man suddenly understood what Alister was driving at. "The police didn't find any sign of forced entry on the keyhole or the door itself," he said slowly.

"That means that someone has a key to the house," said Alister grimly.

Raphael fell back against the chair, feeling numb. That one piece of information had suddenly clicked into place with the rest of the puzzle pieces, and he couldn't understand why he hadn't figured it out sooner. It made sense, now that he looked at it from this angle. "I know who it is," he said hollowly, meeting Alister's gaze. "There's only one other person who had the house key, who would know where we lived and even that tidbit about you."

Raphael paused for a moment before letting out a bitter laugh. "Looks like you were right about Gurimo all along, Alister."

* * *

The following evening found the three bikers back in the house.

Raphael had called the locksmith first thing that morning to get the locks changed to the house, and it was not until that had been done that the three former DOOM soldiers felt it was safe to return to their home. They had also notified the police with their suspicions, omitting anything about DOOM but explaining everything they could about who Gurimo was.

Valon had called both the Ishtars and Shizuka, warning them to stay away until they figured out what was going on; if Gurimo had known that the bikers would return to their home after DOOM had ended, it was likely that he would try to use anyone who was connected to the bikers in an attempt to get to them.

Raphael and Alister kept Valon in the dark as to who they thought Gurimo was after, both to keep the boy calm and also because they had no conclusive proof behind their theory. They also asked the Ishtars to keep an eye on Misa for just a little longer until the whole situation calmed a little—they didn't want the feline caught in the crossfire and to go get her would also endanger the Egyptian family.

The police man that had been stationed in their neighborhood had not reported any sign of Gurimo, but nonetheless they had promised to keep one of their squad cars stationed at the neighborhood's entrance to make sure that there were no repeats of yesterday's events.

At the moment, the bikers were scattered across the house; Valon was upstairs in his room, Alister was doing the dishes from that night's dinner, and Raphael was in the family room with one of the new books he had gotten for his birthday. They had kept their eyes peeled for any sign of Gurimo all day, and they were taking a brief interlude before they would gather once again in the family room; in the event that Gurimo tried to get in the house again, they figured it was a wise idea to stick together.

It seemed likely Gurimo would not strike this evening—the older man had always been a careful planner and it didn't seem like him to return with so much attention being focused on finding him. For the moment, it seemed that the bikers had a chance for some peace and quiet.

Raphael set the book down as he heard footsteps coming down the stairs, figuring it was Valon returning from his bedroom. He rose from his seat, intending to help Alister finish the dishes, but his eyes landed on the doorway to the family room and he felt all the blood drain from his face.

Valon was in the grip of a tall cloaked man, unable to move away from the figure. One of the cloaked figure's gloved hands was over the Australian's mouth, and the other was keeping a gun pressed to the boy's temple. The hood of the figure's cloak was down, revealing a very familiar face.

"Hello, Raphael," said Gurimo calmly, his smile containing a hint of madness. "How have you been doing?"


	41. A Scary Encounter

_Here's the third part to this mini-arc! I got it up ASAP, just for you readers :D_

* * *

Alister stiffened in the doorway to the kitchen, feeling his eyes widen in alarm.

He had just finished the dishes and was about to join Raphael in the family room when he heard Gurimo's voice, and he stopped moving immediately.

He could not quite see Gurimo in the doorway, but he could see Valon standing partially in the room; something dark was covering the Australian's mouth and Alister felt he could safely assume that the object was Gurimo's hand. From what he could immediately see, Valon's blue eyes were dancing in fear and the boy was pale-faced.

Raphael was facing the door at the moment, his face white as well but otherwise giving no indication of his current emotions. "Hello to you too, Gurimo," he said in just as calm of a voice. "It's been a while since I've seen you around."

Alister didn't quite hear Gurimo's response as he stepped backward, heading for the other exit to the kitchen. There were two doorways to the room, and one of them let out into a small office area that Raphael used as the study when he had to do work at home. The redhead slipped through the doorway silently and then hurried through the office, heading for the nearest phone. He inwardly cursed when he noticed that the phone wasn't in the cradle, and he carefully eased the office door open; he would have to find it downstairs or go upstairs, if the last option was able to be done.

He padded into the living room stealthily and stopped at the doorway, cautiously peering out from it to find where Gurimo was. Unable to see the man from where he was, he slipped into the hallway and crouched down beside the staircase before he slowly stuck his head around it. To his dismay, the older man was standing immediately in the way of the staircase, preventing the redhead from going upstairs. He would have to wait for an opening and hope that neither of his best friends ended up shot.

"If you aren't going to let Valon go," Raphael was saying coldly, "then at least let him talk. A dead hostage won't do you any good, Gurimo."

"He isn't dead yet," sneered the older man, and Alister caught a glimpse of Raphael's face from beneath Gurimo's arm.

"No, you're right. But he will be if you don't let him breathe," continued Raphael, looking unruffled. The blonde was doing an extraordinary job of keeping a poker face, and this in turn was helping Valon; besides keeping the boy calm, it also kept Gurimo from getting worried that Raphael was trying something and possibly killing the Australian.

Gurimo seemed to contemplate this before the back of his head dipped. "All right. But no funny business—I won't hesitate to shoot."

Alister suddenly realized why Valon hadn't moved away from the crazed man: he still had his gun, and no doubt it was pressed against the teen's head. He watched Gurimo's shoulder drop, no doubt adjusting his grip on his hostage.

Raphael's tense features softened slightly and he said gently, "Are you all right, Valon?"

"J-Jus' peachy," came the clearly frightened reply. "'m sorry Raph. 'e got me from b'hind…I didn' see 'im 'til it was too late."

"No, it's my fault," said the blonde, looking steadily at Gurimo. "I underestimated him. I didn't think he would return tonight; that's my mistake. Keep still—I'll get you out of this."

Gurimo laughed, and Alister frowned. "That's typical, Raphael. Always so concerned about everyone else…quite the selfless person, aren't you?"

The blonde's ice blue eyes narrowed, and all traces of the gentleness that had been directed at Valon vanished. "I like looking at myself in the mirror in the morning," he said coldly. "Enough about me, though. Why are you doing this?"

"I wondered when you would ask me about that," said Gurimo, and Alister turned away. He crept silently back down the hall, straining to hear the conversation from where he was as he searched for the phone.

"I didn't figure that you were the type to abruptly snap," Raphael's voice wafted down the hall, and Alister inwardly growled when he couldn't find the phone. He cautiously crept back to his hiding place, frustration mixing with fear as he watched Gurimo tensely.

"I am _not_ insane," growled Gurimo, and Valon let out a strangled gasp as the arm Alister guessed was around Valon's neck tightened. "I'm perfectly sane, and you'd do well to remember it."

"All right," said Raphael, just a bit too hastily. "All right. You aren't insane, but you still haven't explained why you're doing this."

Gurimo let out a nasty sounding laugh. "Now we get to the heart of things. I am here to avenge Master Dartz's downfall."

There was a pause as the sentence hung in the air. Alister's gray eyes narrowed; it figured that the older man would still cling to DOOM and Dartz's misguided ideals. It certainly made sense, now that Alister looked at it from this angle.

He heard Valon let out a chuckle, in spite of his current position. "Wha', that loony? 'e was screwed up, 'n' so're you, you lousy git."

Alister nearly let out a disbelieving laugh. Even with a gun pointed at his head Valon was still able to joke—it figured. Raphael had a mixture of horror and amusement on his face, which quickly vanished to be replaced by that calm mask.

Gurimo clearly wasn't amused. "Shut up, you little pest," he snapped, and his other hand raised the gun in the air. He brought it down against Valon's head, and the teen let out a pained cry; he slumped, the only thing keeping him standing being Gurimo's arm.

Raphael growled in warning. "Gurimo, don't hit him again," he snarled, eyes flashing. "If he's the one you're after, it won't do you any good to hurt him."

Gurimo stiffened before snorting in amusement. "You think that this reprobate is the one I want?" he asked, beginning to laugh. "Oh no. He isn't worth it, and neither was the other one. Originally, when I came here yesterday I was fully intending to shoot Alister but decided against it. You know why?"

Raphael shook his head, his eyes never leaving Gurimo's.

"Because it isn't their fault. They listened to Master Dartz all right, but they did it only because _you_ told them to. They obeyed you, showering you with the respect that Master Dartz deserved, and followed your orders without question. To them, _you _were Master Dartz."

He heard the gun click as Gurimo cocked it. "You betrayed Master Dartz and took him from DOOM. I said to myself, 'Why not take these reprobate's Master Dartz?'"

Alister suddenly felt his blood run cold.

Valon wasn't the one Gurimo was after…the one who he wanted dead, the one who he was focusing his attention on, the whole reason he was here….he wasn't after Alister either. He sprang to his feet and flew forward just as Gurimo leveled the gun at his target.

"Raphael, get _down_!" he shouted.

Alister was too late. A single gunshot shattered the silence of the house.

"RAPH!" Valon screamed, but Alister had no idea if the blonde had managed to dodge the shot. He tackled Gurimo from behind and brought the older man to the ground, forcing the gun away from them.

Gurimo grunted, shoving Alister off of him and scrambling for the gun, but yelled in pain as Valon slammed into him and brought him back to the ground. The teenager brought his hands down on Gurimo's shoulder blades, keeping the man down. Alister kicked the gun further away from them, turning his attention back to where Valon was struggling to keep Gurimo down.

With a snarl, Alister grabbed the back of Gurimo's head and slammed the older man's face hard onto the floor. He heard something snap and Gurimo let out a pained cry, but the man continued to struggle. Alister repeated the action angrily, putting all of his body weight behind it. This time, Gurimo went limp.

Alister was lightening fast, undoing his belt. "Valon, hold his feet up," he ordered sharply.

The Australian did what Alister said mutely, and Alister wound the belt around the man's feet, using the belt to hold them in the air as he brought up Gurimo's hands up behind them. He fastened his belt around them, undoing the other belt around his waist and securing the man with it.

He sank to the floor, looking over at Valon. The boy already had a bruise showing up on his forehead but otherwise looked unharmed. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, 'm fine," said Valon shakily. "Stupid git…"

The boy's face lost what remaining color had been in it. "Raph," he whispered, a horrorstruck expression on his face.

Alister wordlessly rose to his feet and ran to the family room, leaping over the back of the sofa and hurrying to where Raphael was. The older blonde was on the floor, and as Alister got nearer to him he saw a crimson stain spreading on the carpet.

"_Raphael!_" he said sharply, praying desperately that the older man wasn't dead.

But even as the two younger bikers were hurrying to him the man was sitting up, holding his left arm tightly. Blood was seeping through his hand, and Alister moved it away to investigate the wound.

"Didn't move fast enough," said Raphael tightly, pain lacing his voice. He winced as Alister's fingers gently prodded the wound as he looked up at them both with worry. "Are you two all right?" he asked.

Valon let out a shaky laugh. "We're fine, mate. You're the one who got shot, though," he said, relief dancing across his features. "I thought you were dead."

"I'm not. But I got lucky that Alister warned me when he did. Otherwise I wouldn't have been able to dodge it," said Raphael, hissing as Alister pressed a cloth to the wound.

Alister grunted an apology, looking up at the blonde. "I barely figured it out in time; if I had delayed much longer, this could have been worse. The bullet just scratched you. It isn't in your arm," the redhead stated, allowing relief in his voice.

The three of them looked up as the sound of police sirens came from outside, and then Alister looked at his friend's pale faces. "I _told_ you that Gurimo was going to snap one day," he stated flatly.

In spite of what happened, Raphael laughed. "I'll take your advice next time," he said with tired amusement.


	42. That Isn't Apple Juice

_To be perfectly fair, I honestly can't explain this one's origins; it was inspired by something I read in one of LuckyLadybug's stories (though, since she has a lot of them, I can't tell you which one) and also by my New Year's special and "Drunken Mischief."_

_Set in a certain someone's childhood (I'll let you figure out who ;D), and if you haven't yet go vote on my new poll._

* * *

He stared curiously at the glass, tilting his head and eyeing it thoughtfully.

He looked at his sippy cup, which had been filled with amber liquid, before looking up at the glass again. He had just finished drinking his appy juice, and he was still thirsty; it was still very warm outside despite it being night time, and he had been hot all that day. He had been heading to find Mama so she could refill his sippy cup when he had come across the half-filled glass.

It looked like appy juice, the four year old thought curiously, staring at the glass with a furrowed brow. And he'd seen the grownups drink it, so it was safe to drink; if they could have the appy juice it was okay if he drank it too, he reasoned. Mama and Papa hadn't been drinking any, but he had seen the adults drink it before.

With that thought in mind, he carefully picked up the glass and took a sip from it.

…He found out then that the liquid was most certainly NOT apple juice.

The second the amber liquid touched his tongue his mouth erupted in a burning and unpleasant taste. Surprise and alarm nearly made the toddler drop the glass, and he set it back on the table carefully. He wanted to spit the drink out but did not do it; Mama had always told him that it was rude to spit out food or drink once it was in his mouth, and he would not disappoint her for anything.

But the longer the child held the burning liquid in his mouth, the more it seared and burned his delicate taste buds. Thinking that perhaps swallowing it would make the burning cease, he forced himself to gulp it down.

That only made things worse.

The burning spread down his throat and a fiery sensation erupted in his stomach as the foul tasting liquid progressed. He let out a distressed whine, beginning to clutch at his throat in an effort to stop the fiery feeling. He rose unsteadily to his feet, the burning feeling never ceasing, and began toddling forward. Mama would know what to do, and Papa too.

They _always _knew what to do.

* * *

Jonathan frowned, looking around for the glass intently.

The Gayles had been hosting a spring party for their neighbors, since it was their turn to do so; in their neighborhood, they always took turns hosting the Spring Party, and it was their year this time.

One of the guests had left their brandy glass out somewhere, and Jonathan was currently on a recovery mission. Though he himself did not drink, he didn't mind allowing his guests to have alcoholic beverages—provided they didn't leave their drink in any place where Alister could get at it. Besides, he'd just been going to put Alister to bed; it was late.

He frowned, scratching his head. So far, he could not find either his son or the drink…he could have sworn Alister was still in the sunroom. He hadn't seen the toddler in the party, and he hadn't been up in his room. Where, then, was Alister?

His attention was caught by a movement in the corner of his vision, and he turned to it. He noticed Alister toddling toward him and clutching his throat, a stricken expression on his face. Concern ignited in the older man, and he hurried over to his son. "What's the matter?"

"Mouf…it's hot…" whimpered the child, continuing to hold his throat. Tears were already gathering in the distressed four year old's gray eyes.

"Why, what's happened?" Jonathan asked, scooping the child into his arms.

"Appy juice huwt me," the child explained, the last part of his sentence coming out as a sob.

The copper-haired man blinked. "Your apple juice hurt you?" he asked, baffled. "How did it do that?"

By now, the child in his arms had begun to wail helplessly, still clutching his throat. The cries apparently caught Rosalie's attention, because her voice suddenly called out from the other room, "What happened to Alister, Jonathan?"

Jonathan, who was uncertain of the cause behind Alister's tears himself but reluctant to involve his wife (who was entertaining the party guests), called back, "I'll find out what's the matter. You stay where you are at, love."

To Alister he said comfortingly, "Let's get to the bottom of this."

He carried Alister back to the sunroom, where the child had been playing in during the party. He noticed his son's abandoned sippy cup on the floor, lying near a table. The missing glass of brandy was sitting far too innocently on that particular table.

Instantly, Jonathan pieced together what had happened, and in spite of himself laughed. "Is this the apple juice that hurt you?" he asked, pointing to the glass

The boy sniffled, his grip finally loosening on his throat as he looked at his father. "Uh huh," he said unhappily. "Mouf still hot."

"Not to worry, Alister. It'll go away soon enough," said Jonathan comfortingly. "There's not much I can do for you now, my boy, but now you know better: don't drink or eat anything unless Mama and I specifically say so."

Alister nodded miserably, gray eyes downcast. "I sowwy," he said.

Jonathan chuckled. "It's quite all right, Alister. You didn't know what it was; you probably thought it was your apple juice, didn't you?"

The gray eyed child nodded again, and Jonathan laughed again. "Well, now you know better," he said cheerfully. "Now come on: it's time for your bedtime."

Once he had gotten Alister tucked in and settled down for the night he went back downstairs to the party. Whoever had left their brandy glass in the sunroom would need a talking-to—he didn't want any repeats of what had just happened to his son in the near future.

* * *

Years later, Alister refused to drink brandy or any other alcoholic beverage. When pressed on the matter by one of DOOM's other employees at a Christmas party Dartz had been hosting, all he said them was simply, "Because that isn't apple juice."


	43. Of Mousetraps and KoolAid

_Another update, just for you readers! I'm on a roll!_

_After you read this go check out my new poll. The other one will be back up soon, but for now just go look at it :D_

_This one is set during DOOM, and you could call this a prequel to "April Fool's Day."_

* * *

Raphael stumbled into the kitchen blearily, rubbing his eyes sleepily. He'd gotten used to navigating around the temple while being half-asleep, and it was not too difficult to make himself a cup of coffee (provided he didn't fall down the stairs again).

While he was waiting for his coffee to brew, the blonde looked around the kitchen and felt a puzzled frown make its way onto his face. Alister was normally in the kitchen before he was; the redhead normally kept his distance and rarely spoke to Raphael, but usually he was in the kitchen before the older biker. It didn't make much sense for Raphael to get here before him—unless he was sick.

At that point, Valon practically bounded into the kitchen, eyes alight with a mixture of mischief and alarm. "'eya Raph! If anyone asks, 'm not in th' pantry," he said hurriedly, and before Raphael could inquire any further the Australian had disappeared into the cupboard.

Baffled by the teenager's actions, Raphael shrugged and resumed his previous activity of getting his coffee made. He reached up for one of the coffee mugs and got it down, carefully pouring the steaming liquid into it. Since it was still too hot to handle, though, he continued to stand in the kitchen; he began contemplating just what it was Valon had meant.

Deciding that he wasn't awake enough to even try and figure out what was going, he shuffled to the pantry and peered into its depths. "Valon, why are you in here?"

"Shhh!" hissed Valon, his head popping out from behind a cereal box beneath one of the shelves (making Raphael wonder how on earth he had fit in there; he suspected it had something to do with the boy's size). "D'ya _wan' _them t' find me?"

The blonde frowned. "'Them'?" he repeated, his puzzlement growing.

"Yep, them!" said Valon in a hushed voice, nodding affirmatively at him. "Now leave b'fore ya give me away! 'm goin' into 'idin' f'r the rest of the day."

Raphael sighed, deciding that whatever was going on would not end well for Valon. He shut the door and returned to his coffee mug, pleased to note that the drink had cooled off enough that he could drink it.

He had just picked it up, however, when an inhuman screech shattered the silence of the temple.

Raphael jumped, nearly dropped the mug from surprise and looking around to find the source. Realizing that whatever had happened was somewhere else in the temple, he left the room in search of the source of the noise. No sooner had he left the kitchen, however, Raphael turned the corner and bumped into an irate Alister. Frowning, he asked, "Were you the one who screamed?"

"No, but do you know where Valon is?" snapped the redhead, uncharacteristically angry.

Remembering what Valon had said, Raphael shook his head. "He was in the kitchen, but I'm not sure where he went after that," he replied. Though he was a terrible liar, he technically wasn't lying; the pantry was not a part of the kitchen and Valon could have very well left by now, since there was another way to get into the kitchen. "Why? What's happened?"

The younger biker's eyes flashed. "The twerp sabotaged my room," he said angrily, and only then did Raphael notice all the string trailing from around the redhead's ankles and hanging haphazardly from his hair. "He strung twine all throughout my room, so I had the pleasure of trying to navigate through it."

Before Raphael could inquire any further, the sound of an air horn pierced the silence and both of them jumped. Almost immediately after the air horn had gone off they heard a pained yell erupt from the resident area, followed immediately by loud snapping sounds.

Raphael was thoroughly bewildered by now, scratching his head in confusion. "I'm sorry…but could you possibly explain what's going on?" he asked slowly, hoping Alister had some idea of what was happening.

"It's April Fool's Day," replied Alister irritably. "Judging by the sound of things, some poor unfortunate soul just got pranked."

The other biker had no chance to reply any further because at that moment Gurimo stumbled down the hallway, howling in pain as he collided with the walls. He had what appeared to be several mouse traps dangling from his cheeks, nose, and ear (as well as several other places on his body).

"I'LL KILL THE BRAT!" he roared in anger, still stumbling.

"…On second thought, Valon's more than welcome to keep doing what he's doing," said Alister appreciatively, a faintly amused smile appearing on his face as he looked at the monocled man's plight.

Raphael watched Gurimo's struggles with concern. "What happened?" he asked, hurrying over.

"That…that…that little reprobate set off an air horn next to my ear!" spluttered Gurimo angrily, gingerly beginning to remove the mousetraps from his body. "He put marbles and mousetraps on the floor, and I rolled off the bed and onto it all. He ran off before I could catch him, but just wait until I tell Master Dartz about this; he'll be out of the temple in no time."

"Tattletale," said Alister disinterestedly as he disappeared into the kitchen. Gurimo glared after the redhead angrily but said nothing, continuing to pull off the mousetraps.

The blonde frowned. "I don't think that's likely, Gurimo," he said, shrugging as the older man directed his glare at him. "Master Dartz wouldn't try to throw Valon out of the temple just because it's April Fool's Day. Today is the one day you can dish it out and not get punished for it."

His frown deepened as another thought occurred to him. "Gurimo, you didn't happen to scream earlier, did you?"

"Of course I did," snapped Gurimo irritably, carefully removing one of the mousetraps from his ear.

"No, I mean…did you shriek? Someone did earlier, and I was wondering—"

"You were hearing things, Raphael. Go drink your coffee and wake up more, because I am the only one who yelled," said Gurimo in a patronizing manner, waving a hand dismissively at him.

Raphael's eyes narrowed but he said nothing, instead stepping into the kitchen and picking up his coffee mug. He knew what he heard was not due to his imagination, but he wasn't in a mood to try and argue with Gurimo. The man was highly unpleasant to work around to begin with, and in the end it simply wasn't worth it to argue with him.

Alister had just finished getting breakfast for himself and was about to sit down by Raphael when Gurimo's horrified voice rang out, "Master Dartz, what _happened_ to you?"

"Now what?" said Alister with a sigh, rising to his feet and padding to the doorway of the kitchen to investigate. "I bet money that Valon's behind…Raphael, come see this."

The blonde let out a sigh of his own, nonetheless rising to his feet and heading to the doorway. He peered over Alister's head and looked out into the hall. Dartz was standing in front of Gurimo, looking irate. Everything about him seemed normal: same white outfit, same green hair, same Orichalcos pendant…

Everything looked normal—save for the fact that Dartz's skin was a vivid _electric blue._

Now Raphael knew who had screamed earlier.

The green-haired man looked over at the kitchen and noticed Alister and Raphael standing in the doorway. "If any of you see Valon," said Dartz in a forcibly calm voice, "tell him I want to see him immediately. We need to have a little discussion about what Kool-Aid is to be used for."

Without another word the Atlantean left, Gurimo trailing after him and beginning to relay what Valon had done to him with the mousetraps. Alister rolled his eyes and muttered something along the lines of, "stupid tattletale."

Raphael shook his head before looking down at the red-haired biker. "For Valon's sake, I hope that he doesn't come out of hiding."


	44. Earring

_I don't really know where this one came from. I guess I could say it was inspired by a conversation with my eight-year old brother on the subject, and afterward one of my plot bunnies began attacking me mercilessly with a croquet mallet. Go figure._

_Post-DOOM once again, and thanks to everyone who's reviewing :D_

* * *

"I think 'm gonna get an earring."

Alister, who had reading a book and been drinking a glass of water, choked on the beverage and began spluttering. After he finished choking on the water, he looked up disbelievingly at the Australian teenager and asked, "_Why_, pray tell, would you need an earring?"

Valon shrugged. "I dunno. Raph's got 'is ear pierced, 'n' they look all right. Marik's got 'em too, as well as Rishid. Even Dartz 'ad 'em," he said, flopping onto the couch and looking up at Alister's shocked face.

"Marik and Rishid are both from Egypt; it's pretty likely that their culture allows that. Dartz was thousands of years old and, as you once put so eloquently, 'a weirdo,'" replied Alister flatly, masking his surprise.

"All right then: wha' 'bout Raph? 'e's from France, not thousands o' years old, and 'e's from a rich snoot fam'ly to boot," Valon said challengingly. "'e still 'as earrings."

"He did that deliberately to provoke his family. In case you've forgotten, they aren't exactly the most friendly people in the world," replied Alister flatly. "Besides, he doesn't wear them as much as he used to; he has to take them off for his job."

"Yeah, but 'e coulda done somethin' else, like get a tattoo. 'e got a couple o' earrings instead."

"Tattoos are somewhat more permanent than earrings, Valon. What about Shizuka? I highly doubt that her brother wants a guy with earrings around his sister, and I don't think Shizuka wants a boyfriend with an earring either."

"Yeah? Wha' 'bout tha' Otogi bloke that 'angs 'round Yugi and them? Tha' bloke's got an earring too."

"Is he your boyfriend?"

"_No!"_

"Then why are you worried about an earring?"

"'Cause they look cool. Look at Raph—'e's got two of 'em."

"If he jumped off a bridge, would you do it too? Valon, seriously, you get into enough trouble as it is; the last thing we need is for you to get an earring caught on your t-shirt and get it ripped out. And you don't need an earring at all."

"Tch. I'll be fine," said Valon dismissively, shrugging. "'m not tha' clumsy, mate."

Alister stared back at the brunette for a moment before he set the book he'd been reading down on the table. "Raphael's working at home today, isn't he?" he asked calmly.

When Valon nodded, the redhead rose to his feet and said simply, "Stay here. I'll be right back."

Before Valon could protest at all, Alister had left the room and disappeared from sight. The Australian scratched his head in confusion, shrugging as he looked down at Misa. "Whaddya reckon this's all about, kitty?" he asked.

A few seconds after that inquiry, Raphael came into the room with a confused look on his face. "What's wrong now?" he asked, referring to Valon's comment.

"I dunno. I jus' said I should get an earring, like you've got, 'n' Alister goes all 'aywire," said Valon, rolling his eyes. "You got your ear pierced. There wasn't anythin' wrong with that then, so can' I get my ear pierced?"

"For the record, I just did that to annoy my relatives and then afterward found it comfortable," Raphael said with a shrug. He frowned contemplatively at the teenager. "I don't really see why you can't," he said at last. "Alister and I aren't your parents; you're free to do as you wish."

"Really?" said Valon, grinning widely. "Awesome!"

"Just be sure that you have a really high pain tolerance before you go through with it, though," said Raphael as he began to leave the room.

"Right. I'll do thaaa…wha' does that mean, Raph?"

The older blonde turned back to look at Valon with a raised eyebrow. "Hm?"

"What do you mean by 'pain tol'rance?'" asked the Australian nervously. "What do they do? You've 'ad your ear pierced, 'n' you were fine."

"Yes, that is correct," Raphael agreed amicably. "But getting my earrings actually hurt."

Valon gulped. "Um…wha' do they do?"

"Well, they get out this object that looks like a stapler gun—"

"_A stapler gun?" _repeated Valon faintly.

"Yes. Then they put the tip of that here," said Raphael, pointing to a spot on his right earlobe. "And they pull the trigger."

"…Does…does it 'urt?"

Raphael frowned contemplatively. "Depends. Some people faint, others say it feels like a nail going through your hand. To me, it was more of a pinch than anything else. "

Valon relaxed. "So it isn' tha' painful?" he asked.

"In truth, not really. It's the aftermath that hurt me."

Valon nodded enthusiastically, but then frowned as Raphael's last comment registered. "Wha' does that mean?" he asked.

"Well, shortly after my ear got pierced the earring holes got infected; you're supposed to dab at where the earring is with a cotton ball soaked in alcohol, and I forgot to do that a couple of times. Now _that_ hurt," Raphael said. "It felt like a fire ant was continuously biting my ear. I couldn't sleep, and the slightest bump on that ear felt like agony. It throbbed all the time, no matter what I did."

Valon paled slightly. "But it got better?" he asked hopefully.

"Yeah, it did. It was fine until one of my earrings got caught in my jacket and was nearly ripped out. Then it got infected all over again," said Raphael with a shrug, ignoring Valon's horrified look. "Trust me, earring holes can always get infected. And sometimes earrings can leave behind scars, too."

"Aw c'mon. 'ow does it—?"

"Because your earlobe is one of the most sensitive parts of your body, and if your earring gets ripped out by accident it cuts your earlobe in two; then your skin heals over the cut but leaves behind a scar," said Raphael with a shrug. "But don't let me dissuade you in your decision. I did get my ear pierced, and as long as you remember to maintain your ear constantly after you get it pierced you won't get it infected."

With that comment Raphael left the room, leaving behind a very horrified looking Australian. As he passed by Alister on his way back to the office, he said, "You don't need to worry about Valon getting an earring anymore."


	45. On the Roof

_I don't know how this one came about. If one wants to cross analyze it, they could say its origins could be found in a conversation with a friend of mine (the topic being, "Raphael and Valon got along well enough, but there had to be moments where Alister and Valon got along too. They didn't always fight back in DOOM.") On another note, if you've read "Trapped" then remember that Alister, though uncomfortable with heights, can still function around them._

_...I promise that will make more sense in a minute._

_During DOOM, can be seen as a semi-sequel for "Of Mousetraps and Kool-Aid."_

* * *

Valon stretched, glancing at the clock on the wall. He'd been assigned the "pleasant" task of doing paperwork for Paradius (all he really had to do was stamp the page with Paradius' seal, but blast it all, it took _forever_) as punishment for his April Fool's antics yesterday; honestly, he believed he had gotten the short end of the stick on the matter.

Valon rose from his chair and stretched again, padding silently out of the room. As he walked he decided that he would have to ask Dartz for some night lights in the halls—the DOOM temple was downright creepy at night.

He wondered to see where Gurimo and Dartz were at, since both of the older men were the ones insistent on the punishment. He first headed for Gurimo's room, since that was closest, and very cautiously opened the door a crack. He could hear snoring and barely made out a lump in the bed, and it was enough to tell him Gurimo was asleep.

Next was Dartz, but after realizing that the man was most likely in the Hall doing Orichalcos business he decided against it; besides, it wasn't as if Dartz was omniscient. And since the older man's skin hadn't resumed its normal color yet, Valon made the wise decision to not provoke the Atlantean further.

Once the two older men were eliminated from his mental checklist, Valon found that next up were Raphael and Alister.

He didn't bother trying to be quiet as he went to Raphael's room. The older biker didn't exactly care about Valon coming in and out of his room late at night—if anything, he was resigned to the fact that the Australian would inevitably come in and did not bother trying to tell the boy to stay away.

Not to his surprise, the older blonde was already fast asleep when Valon looked in the room; Raphael had seemed to be coming down with another cold and therefore had been going to bed earlier. All he needed were a few good night's rest and all would be well again.

This left Alister.

Valon grimaced at the thought of bothering Alister, knowing for a fact that the other man was most likely awake; the redhead was an insomniac and a light sleeper, and if he even thought about going into Alister's room then the other biker would wake up. He barely got along with Alister during the day—how was he supposed to get along with him at this hour?

"Aw what the 'eck," he said to himself cheerfully. "Nothin' ventured, nothin' gained."

Carefully Valon slowly opened the door and peered inside the room, taking care to make sure the door didn't creak. A moment later, though, a puzzled frown made its way onto his face and he opened the door fully.

Alister was not in his bedroom. His bed was still perfectly made and there was no sign that his older companion had even been in the room. His bedroom window was wide open, however, and Valon suddenly wondered if Alister had accidentally fallen out—or maybe he had finally had enough of life and had jumped.

Alarmed at that thought, the boy hurried to the window to peer out into the night. A small piece of paper was on the windowsill, held down by a paper weight, and Valon picked it up.

It took him a bit to figure out what was on it, since Raphael was still teaching him how to read, but Valon was able to decipher the message:

_Haven't jumped out the window. Up on the roof. _

"'e's up on the roof?" Valon said perplexedly, looking at the ceiling.

The only way up to the roof (that Valon knew of) was via the balcony that was just outside of Dartz's bedroom; there was a trellis that could be easily used as a ladder to get to the roof, and Valon knew it was there from previous experience. However, there was no way that the teenager was going to go through there—not after what had just happened. But he wanted to see why Alister was on the roof to begin with.

"So… 'ow do I get up there?" he wondered aloud.

Then he looked at the open window.

* * *

"Stupid idea, Valon. Really, really, _really_ stupid idea."

At the moment, Valon was very high off the ground, clinging to the side of the DOOM temple as he carefully scaled the rocky surface of the building on his way to the roof. He wasn't afraid of heights, but it was still a long way down; Valon wondered why on earth Dartz had felt the need to place their headquarters on the side of a cliff, but returned his attention to climbing.

Though from a distance the walls of the building appeared to be smooth, in reality there were crevices and jagged edges to the wall that allowed Valon to climb it. After a certain point he got lucky and was able to use window ledges to help him climb, but it was still hard work.

"I coulda snuck into Master Dartz's room…and gotten t' the roof from there. There's no guarantee 'e woulda seen me. But nooo…I 'ad t' do this th' 'ard way," muttered Valon to himself as he carefully climbed.

Even as he spoke, though, he could already see the edge of the rooftop and after a few more seconds he was just beneath it. He reached for the edge and managed to clasp it with his hands. Feeling a little more daring, he began to haul himself up.

And then his foot slipped.

Valon let out a startled yelp and hung on tightly to the edge, flailing around as he tried to desperately regain his balance. Just as he was about to lose his grip, however, a hand reached out and caught his wrist.

"Valon, what on earth are you doing!" asked a surprised and alarmed voice.

The Australian looked up into a pair of startled gray eyes and grinned weakly. "'eya, Alister. 'ow's it goin'?"

Without hesitating in the slightest Alister hauled Valon up and over the edge, and seconds later the teenager found himself on the roof's surface, far away from the edge and more toward the midle. He placed a hand over his pounding heart and took a few steadying breaths.

"What were you doing? You could have fallen and killed yourself," Alister scolded, his facial expression a mixture of annoyance and alarm.

"Your note said you were up 'ere, and there's no way I was gonna go through Dartz's room to get up 'ere," replied Valon, feeling his heart rate return to normal.

Alister blinked, then sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "That note was there in case someone thought I jumped out the window. I was just letting people know I was up here; I didn't mean for anyone to follow after me," he said, shaking his head.

"…Really?"

"Yeah. You could have taken the stairs, you know," Alister continued, gesturing to the trapdoor nearby them. "It's easier than pretending to be King Kong and scaling the side of the building."

"I didn' know we 'ad stairs that led up 'ere," Valon said indignantly. "Why'd you leave your window open?"

"Because the room felt stuffy and I was airing it out a bit," replied Alister in exasperation. "That wasn't an invitation for someone to climb up that way. Besides, when Raphael was showing you around on your first day here I remember that he specifically said there was a stairwell at the end of the residential hall."

The older biker noticed Valon's suddenly sheepish expression and sighed again. "You weren't paying attention to him that day, were you?" he asked with mild amusement.

Valon shrugged in embarrassment. "Sorry, chum. I wish I 'ad, though—woulda saved me a lot o' trouble," he said with a slight laugh. After a moment, he looked back up at the redhead and asked, "So…what _are_ ya doin' up 'ere, anyway?"

Alister sat on the ground beside Valon. "I just needed some fresh air; as mentioned before, my room was stuffy. That and I was looking at the stars."

Valon blinked and looked up at the night sky thoughtfully. "You're star-gazin'?"

"You could call it that," the redhead agreed quietly.

Alister remained silent for a moment before he looked up at the stars faintly twinkling above him. "I used to do this all the time with my mother and younger brother. We'd sit out in the front lawn of our home and look up above us. The sky was clear like this as far as the eye could see and you could see every star as if you were standing right up there next to them," he said softly.

Valon tilted his head. "Tha' sounds like fun. More than I 'ad, anyway," he replied earnestly. "In the city, you could never see th' stars. All the lights 'id 'em."

"I can understand that."

A long but comfortable silence fell between them as the two bikers looked up at the sky above them. Valon was pleasantly surprised that they hadn't started arguing yet; usually within minutes of each other they would be bickering, so this was a welcome reprieve.

It was Alister who broke the silence first. "Valon?"

"Hm?"

"…How do you know how to get to the roof from Dartz's room?"


	46. Mischief with Helium

_The movie "UP" turned out to have a plot bunny in it._

_I was watching it and when it came up to the part involving the malfunctioning voice chip on the Doberman the plot bunny smacked me in the face and commanded me to write. As a result…well, we have this._

_This one is post-DOOM, and I need input on a poll (I seem to say that a lot :D)._

* * *

"Raph?"

"Hm?"

"What would you sound like if ya took in some 'elium?"

The blonde, who had been in the middle of making dinner (it was his turn to cook), looked over at Valon with a raised eyebrow. "I'm sorry, but…what?"

"Y'know 'ow people like t' suck on th' balloons to in'ale th' 'elium? They go all chipmunk-y 'n' stuff. I was wonderin' what would 'appen if you did that."

Raphael shook his head, reaching for a seasoning jar and beginning to lightly sprinkle the spice over the chicken they were having for dinner. "And I suppose you were hoping that I would be your willing guinea pig?" he asked sardonically. He gently nudged Misa aside (she was rather hopeful for a bit of the chicken; at times, Misa could be worse than a dog when she was in the kitchen) as he bent down to take out a frying pan.

"Well…actually, yeah," said Valon sheepishly, looking at Raphael with a hopeful expression.

The blonde, having found what he was looking for, straightened up and went to the stove top. He turned on the burner and dropped a slice of butter in the pan before turning back to Valon. "I don't think the balloon would appreciate me practicing my Dracula impression on it. Alister might, though, if you go bother him enough."

A small popping sound coming from the stove told Raphael that the butter had melted, which meant that it was hot enough to start cooking the chicken in it. He returned to the counter where he'd left the platter of raw chicken and picked it up, returning to the stove and beginning to carefully lowering the strips of meat into it.

"Alister's takin' a nap, chum. I was 'opin' you could do it," said Valon, looking back up at Raphael curiously.

"He is?" Raphael raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Yeah. I think 'e was readin' one o' 'is books on the sofa, but righ' now 'e's out like a light," replied Valon.

This surprised Raphael even further. It was rare enough for Alister to take a nap; generally, once the redhead was awake he did not sleep until sometime past midnight. It was even more of a rare occasion that the younger biker was sleeping in the open and not in his room—Alister avoided sleeping where people could see him, mostly because Valon had a habit of pulling pranks on him while he was asleep.

"Sooo, will ya do it?" asked Valon, breaking into his thoughts. "It's be funny to 'ear you as a chipmunk."

"…Thanks, but I think I'll pass," Raphael said at last, using a spatula to turn the chicken strips. "I rather prefer keeping my dignity, and I don't fancy sucking on helium."

Valon's face fell a little, and Raphael refocused his attention to the chicken, making sure it didn't burn. He was confident that he had deflected the boy's interest in the matter, and he had also spared himself from ending up as a guinea pig.

When he turned back to Valon, however, he was not entirely pleased to note the devilish look on the teen's face. "Whatever you're thinking had better not involve me in the slightest," he warned, folding his arms over his chest.

Valon grinned, and it only made Raphael even more uneasy. "Aw, don' worry chum," he said in a far too innocent voice. "'m not gonna do anythin' t' _you_, per se."

Realizing that the Australian was thinking of Alister, Raphael sighed. "Leave him alone if he's asleep, Valon—unless you want to end up locked in the closet again."

The brunette's grin stretched even further. "'m not gonna ask 'im t' do anythin'. 'e'd say no, anyway."

Raphael was not entirely convinced about that answer, but before he could interject Valon said cheerfully, "'ow 'bout I 'elp ya with dinner?"

The older blonde frowned at that. For one thing, Valon voluntarily rendering his services for anything involving work was not a good omen; it meant that he was up to something. Another thing that worried Raphael about the Australian helping him in the kitchen… "The last time you tried to make anything you melted one of the pots into an incoherent blob."

Valon flushed, the grin slipping off his face to be replaced with a scowl, and he said indignantly, "It was a tricky recipe! Even you woulda 'ad trouble with it!"

"You were boiling water at the time of the pot's unfortunate death," Raphael deadpanned.

Nonetheless he agreed to allow Valon to help him, deciding that the teen could set the table and pour the drinks (he knew better than to allow Valon to do food prep, since the teen had an unfortunate knack of setting things aflame).

By the time Valon had set the table Raphael was finished cooking the chicken. He carefully set the still hot meal on another platter before heading to the freezer to get out a frozen bag of green beans. "Valon, could you go get Alister?" he asked, back turned on the teenager.

[In retrospect, he probably should have kept an eye on Valon.]

He heard the boy rummaging for something in the pantry, something metallic bumping against the wooden surface. "I'll go get 'im, then," said Valon cheerfully, his footsteps fading from the room.

Raphael turned back to where he'd left the chicken on the counter, calmly lifting the platter away from Misa (who had now resorted to climbing onto the counter to get at the meat). "No you don't, Misa," he said with mild amusement.

The cat looked up at him with baleful green eyes, and Raphael let out a soft chuckle as he carried the chicken to the kitchen table. "Maybe if you quit pestering me I'll give you a piece later," he continued.

He frowned at the odd silence, not entirely liking it. By now he should have heard Valon talking to Alister and their footsteps coming toward the kitchen, but all he could hear was silence and that alone made him uneasy.

"VALON!"

He jumped at the strange high pitched voice that rang out through the house, and looked to the doorway with bafflement. He was about to go see what was going on when he heard Valon's maniacal laughter and the sound of running footsteps that vanished (apparently) up the stairs. Not liking this newest development, he continued into the family room where Alister had supposedly been sleeping.

"You better run!" shouted the high pitched voice indignantly, and Raphael paused with something of surprise in the doorway to the kitchen. He had a sinking feeling he knew what had happened—now he just needed evidence to confirm it.

Alister stomped into view at that point, his gray eyes flashing irritably as he stalked toward the kitchen. "Do I have a giant target painted on me somewhere?" he asked irritably in that same high-pitched voice, and Raphael held back his laughter.

"How'd it happen?" he asked, trying and failing to keep the amusement off his face.

"Beware, Raphael: he has a helium tank and a straw," Alister said crossly, sitting at the table and folding his arms. "Remind me to beat the person over the head with the helium tank they sold to Valon."

"I'm surprised you didn't murder him on the spot; he's probably in hiding right about now," commented Raphael, heading over to the microwave to get out the vegetables from the machine.

He turned back in time to see a smug look appear on Alister's face. "He got away before I could grab him, but that's okay. I have the advantage," he said, his voice still carrying that oddly high pitch to it.

"Oh? And that would be…?"

"We have the food. He has to come out of hiding sometime."


	47. Someone's Waiting For You

_My eight year old brother was watching, "The Rescuers" with my parents. For those who have seen it, the movie got right to the part when Penny goes out after Medusa tells her that no one wants her. As she stands on the deck of the wrecked steamboat and looks up at the sky, a song starts to play in the background. _

_The moment the woman started singing, I literally stood up from where I was sitting, pointed at the TV, and said, "Oh my God, that's Valon."_

_…Rest assured, I got a few weird looks for that._

_The song is "Someone's Waiting For You" and you should look it up on YouTube after reading this. Trust me: you'll get the same reaction I had. The effect of this song and the mental image it generated…I simply can't describe it._

_Set in Valon's past, shortly after when Mother Mary had first found him. On a note, I am not Catholic or a nun, so I don't quite know how a few things work. I tried to do the best I could, though, for Mother Mary._

* * *

Mother Mary blinked in surprise as faint music began to filter through the empty cathedral, echoing slightly but too muffled for her to make out the words. She rose to her feet, dipping her head to the altar and crossing herself before leaving the spacious room in search of the source.

A puzzled frown marred her face as she walked down the aisle. There was not supposed to be music within the cathedral, unless it was at mass; as a nun, she had taken a vow to not let the world influence her, and that included outside music. To hear the sound this late at night was alien, and she had only been in the sanctum for ten minutes.

She noted that Valon was no longer sitting where she had left him before going into the cathedral and a soft sigh escaped her as she looked for the boy. She wondered if he'd slipped out of the church to roam the streets again—it would not surprise her if he had.

She had found Valon taking shelter in the shadow of a dumpster only a few weeks ago, slumped against the wall wearily, and it had taken all of her encouragement to get Valon to follow her back to the church; he'd been very badly injured, but he still hadn't trusted her.

It had also taken an inordinate amount of effort for her to get the rough-and-tumble boy to tell her why he was alone, but when he'd finally admitted that he had nowhere else to go Mother Mary refused to allow him to leave; she had offered the boy shelter here in the church. Originally she had intended to transfer him over to the orphanage with the rest of the children when he had healed up enough. The establishment was linked to the church, and Mother Mary spent some time in with the smaller children when she could.

Valon did not like that idea, however, and deliberately slipped away at random without telling her where he was going. He would often come back to the cathedral in a surly mood, with various bruises and cuts scattered on his face and hands. For that matter, Valon didn't seem to trust too many people—even Mother Mary had difficulty trying to get Valon's trust.

She stepped out into the foyer, remembering her original intention and looking around her. It took a few moments before she determined that the sound was coming from one of the side rooms to her left. She turned in that direction, and as she got closer the music stopped. Now confused, she stopped in the hallway and listened intently for the music to start up again.

"Maybe I'm just hearing things," said the nun to herself, laughing a bit as she turned away.

The weird noise started up again.

Mother Mary turned again, this time narrowing the source to a room at the end of the hall and she began to advance to it. By the time she had gotten near to it she realized it was the play room where children were placed during mass; it could not be expected for young children to sit through the entire service.

It was a song, Mother Mary realized, and she went to the slightly open door, noting that the television inside the room (because the children had to be entertained somehow) was on. She cautiously opened the door and looked inside the room.

"_Be brave, little one  
Make a wish on each sad little tear  
Hold your head up, though no one is near  
Someone's waiting for you…"_

Valon was sitting on the floor of the nursery, his eyes never leaving the television screen. Mother Mary briefly recognized the movie as one she had seen in her childhood before her days at the convent; she'd unearthed the VHS tape while unpacking a few things and had placed the movie in the room for the children to entertain themselves.

Why was Valon sitting here in the dark, watching the movie by himself? She remembered his derisive comment when she'd asked if he'd wanted to watch it with the younger children earlier that evening: "Tha's silly. Who'd wanna watch a movie 'bout some mice?"

"_Don't cry, little one  
There'll be a smile where a frown used to be  
You'll be part of the love that you see  
Someone's waiting for you…"_

Valon hadn't looked away from the screen yet, his cerulean eyes locked onto the screen. She frowned thoughtfully at his turned back. He couldn't have watched the movie from the beginning; she hadn't been in the cathedral for that long. The movie was halfway through, if she remembered right—had Valon fast forwarded to this part, and if so why?

At that point, however, Mother Mary suddenly remembered what part of the movie Valon was on right now and understanding washed through her in waves; now she understood why she had only been hearing music. Valon had been rewinding the tape to play that song over and over again. She tuned it out for a moment, her heart going out to the boy sitting on the floor.

The brunette child had not gone into detail about what had happened in his childhood outside of reluctantly admitting that he had been abandoned, but when asked if he wanted to be adopted he had reacted with surprising venom.

"'m not gonna let some strangers 'dopt me 'n' pretend 'm their kid!" he had said coldly, eyes flashing with anger and just a hint of pain.

At the time, Mother Mary had not understood why Valon had been so opposed to the idea; as an orphan he must have been in want of some parents, especially since she had caught him casting longing glances at couples with children. Yet when she had pointed it out the child had snorted and said, "That's them…not me."

Everything about the boy's behavior suddenly made sense.

Valon didn't want to be adopted because he was still hoping that his real family would come for him.

Wordlessly she slipped away from the door and leaned against the wall beside the nursery, the ending words of the song filtering into her hearing as she murmured a soft prayer for the child sitting by himself in that darkened room.

"_Have faith, little one  
'Til your hopes and your wishes come true  
You must try to be brave, little one  
Someone's waiting to love you…"_


	48. An Awkward Question

_This question has been asked countless times by people everywhere, and it was only a matter of time before it would be asked in here. Blame my unofficial beta for this one._

_This one is set WAY back in DOOM, with Valon being 14, Alister at 17, and Raphael the oldest at 21._

* * *

"Alister?"

The redhead didn't even look up from his book, not bothering to acknowledge Valon's presence. Taking this for a positive sign that he was welcome in the room, the teenager flopped onto the nearby sofa and looked over at where the redhead was sitting thoughtfully. "Oi, Alister?"

There was still no reply.

Valon sighed impatiently but sat still, knowing better than to bother the other man at the moment. He didn't know Alister too well, but he had learned very quickly that the red-haired biker highly disliked anyone stealing whatever book he was reading at the time—which was what Valon was tempted to do.

After a moment, though, the Australian decided to throw caution to the wind and reached over to snag the book from Alister's hands.

"Touch my book and life as you know it will end," said Alister coldly, not looking away from the page he was on.

"But Alister," Valon whined, "'ve got a question."

"Then go bother Raphael. He's the one who humors your stupid questions."

"But 'e's not 'ere righ' now! 'e's out on a mission 'n' won' be back 'til later on t'night!"

"Boo hoo. Go cry me a river, and in the meantime wait for Raphael to get back," replied Alister, never looking away from the book.

"But that could be ages! 'n' my question can' wait tha' long…c'mon, Alister, 'elp me out."

"Patience is a virtue, Valon. I understand it isn't one that you're used to exercising, but you're going to have to try anyway. Go ask Gurimo or Dartz, if you're so desperate for an answer," replied the redhead, turning a page and continuing to read.

"Tha's just it! Gurimo called me a dirty minded punk and Dartz told me t' come see you!"

Alister finally looked up from his book at that, raising an eyebrow. "Really?" he asked, feeling something of curiosity. As much as he hated to admit it, he was admittedly curious as to what the Australian boy had asked that not even Dartz could answer; he didn't particularly care about Gurimo, since the older man had a permanent grudge against the Australian.

He sighed, bookmarking his place before setting the book down and looking at the brunette. "All right, Valon," he said wearily. "What's your question?"

Valon's dejected countenance brightened instantly and a grin split his face. "Y'mean you'll answer it?" he asked hopefully.

"Why not? I might as well take a stab at it," said Alister in resignation. "So…what's your question?"

* * *

Raphael jumped in surprise as the cell phone on the hotel desk began to ring.

He had just gotten back from accomplishing Dartz's latest orders and was in the middle of packing up his belongings when the phone had gone off. Raising an eyebrow, he padded over to the desk and picked up the device, looking on the screen to see who was calling.

His eyebrow shot up even further when he noticed that the caller ID revealed Alister's name; besides Alister's number, Raphael had many of the more important members of DOOM's phone numbers. It was necessary during missions to keep each other's numbers in case something went wrong—though Valon had inadvertently broken his cell phone by accident ("'ow was I s'pposed t' know that the thing would break if I dropped it?").

But Alister rarely called him at all, especially when he was back at the temple and when they weren't on a mission…what would have Alister calling him now, of all times?

He pushed on the call button and said into the phone, "This is new. You don't ever call this number."

"_Normally I wouldn't. I, however, have a bit of a crisis on hand and Valon's involved."_

Raphael felt a mixture of exasperation and concern flood him as Alister finished speaking. He honestly could not leave that boy alone for more than five minutes without him getting into trouble; the Australian had a knack for getting into all sorts of mischief, and Raphael suspected that half the time the boy wasn't even trying.

"What happened now?" he asked wearily.

"_Don't worry, he didn't blow anything up,"_ said Alister, and Raphael could hear Valon in the background say something that sounded suspiciously like a half-hearted denial.

"So then…if he didn't blow something up, why are you calling me about him?" Raphael inquired, though not unkindly. He was genuinely baffled as to why Alister would be calling him about Valon—if anything Gurimo was usually the one who called to complain to Raphael about him.

"_He asked me something and I…well, I don't quite know how to answer it."_

Raphael arched an eyebrow at the suddenly uncomfortable tone in Alister's voice. "That's also new. What did he ask you?"

"_…It might be better if Valon told you."_

Raphael heard something on the other line, probably Alister handing the phone to the brunette, before Valon's cheerful voice came over the line. "_'eya, Raph!"_

_"_Alister mentioned you had a question. Mind elaborating on that?" he asked with mild amusement.

Valon didn't even bother waiting for a moment. "_Where do babies come from?"_

It took a moment for Raphael to digest the question, and when it finally clicked in his mind and he realized what Valon had just asked, he said in somewhat of a disbelieving tone, "_Please_ tell me you're joking."

"_Why does _everyone _I ask say that?" _asked Valon indignantly. "_Every time I try t' ask tha' question I either get slapped, told t' go see someone else, 'r I get some weird talk 'bout 'birds 'n' bees.'"_

The blonde realized then that, unfortunately, Valon was quite serious and this was not some kind of prank.

"You mean to tell me that no one has ever bothered to…oh _no,_" he groaned, slapping his forehead. _Now _he understood why the redhead had called him.

_Thank you, Alister. Thank you _soo _much, _Raphael thought sarcastically.

"_Raph? You still there, mate?"_

The older blonde inwardly groaned. Why did it have to be that question? "Well…uh…you see…babies, well they, uh…it's kind of difficult to explain…" he began awkwardly, wishing mightily that Valon had asked him anything but this.

There was a patient pause on the other end of the phone, telling the older biker that the boy had no intention of going anywhere until the question was sufficiently answered.

…This was going to be a _long _conversation.


	49. Liar Liar

_Argh. My plot bunnies are WEIRD._

_I was rewatching Yu-Gi-Oh! the other day and I got up to episode 174 ("Grappling With A Guardian"). I was doing okay until the conversation between Raphael and the Pharaoh occurred, right before their duel. Raphael said something that kinda bugged me, so I went to the sub and rewatched that part of the episode. That was when my plot bunnies hit me with this._

_Set during DOOM, obviously, and I used a combination of the sub and the dub to write this; most of this is the sub, but the line that got to me is at the end and from the dub. _

* * *

Raphael was, by nature, a terrible liar.

Even as a small child, he was incapable of telling a lie. His parents had always taught him to tell the truth, and no matter what happened that was what was done; he'd gotten in trouble before because of his sometimes brutal honesty. In the society he had grown up in, honesty was not always the best policy—though his father had secretly agreed with him that one time when Raphael had pointed out that his aunt's perfume smelled atrocious.

There were rare occasions when Raphael had actually attempted to lie, but it was always easy to tell when the blonde was not telling the truth. His eyes would flicker, his eyebrows would furrow, and his body would stiffen, not to mention that when he was talking his sentences were choppy and he looked like he would want to grimace. In the end, Raphael had long ago decided that the truth was always the best policy and stopped trying to lie a long time ago.

But Raphael could honestly admit that there had been one time that he had managed to tell a bold-faced lie.

* * *

"RAPHAEL!"

The Nameless Pharaoh's shout was one filled with raw anger and pain combined, the weight of what had happened over the past couple of days finally resulting in a visible display of the Pharaoh's emotions.

"Aren't you in pain at all? Doesn't your chest hurt? Doesn't your heart hurt?" asked the Nameless Pharaoh angrily, his violet eyes flashing in pain.

The older blonde looked silently at the Nameless Pharaoh, his eyes unreadable. Mai had asked that same question earlier in her duel against him, when she had tried to attack Dartz. He had looked at her wordlessly before striking the final blow that won him the duel. He had never cared for her, and to defeat her was something that he had no qualms about. To be honest, he was rather annoyed with the question now and would have preferred not to hear it again.

His heart did hurt, true. But it had hurt for years, ever since that fateful cruise had taken his family away. And the duel with Mai had been a headache; she had confirmed that Valon had lost his duel, and though he did not entirely believe her (she had never been trustworthy to begin with) an uneasy feeling had settled itself in the pit of his stomach. Besides that, though, he couldn't see what the Nameless Pharaoh was driving at.

"Pegasus, Haga, Ryuzaki, Mai, Jounouchi…Yugi…just how many souls have you seized?" the spiky haired teenager continued, looking away from Raphael at the mention of his counterpart.

Ah. That was the Pharaoh's game—make him feel remorse for his actions. True, he did feel a modicum of pity for the people whose souls would feed the Great Leviathan, but for the people who were associated with the Nameless Pharaoh he felt nothing. They weren't his friends and—

"Even Alister and Valon…even your companion's souls have been taken. _Don't you feel anything at all?" _the Nameless Pharaoh finished quietly, the anger ebbing for just a moment as he looked back at him from where he stood.

Raphael froze as the full brunt of the Pharaoh's words hit him.

He hadn't even known that Alister had lost his duel until Dartz had shown him the Soul Room. When Raphael had seen Alister's image on the stone tablet something within his chest had constricted and he had honestly felt sick. And just now…just now, the Pharaoh had said Valon's name too. That meant that Mai had been telling the truth earlier…and that meant that he was the last of Dartz's Swordsmen left.

Yes, he did feel something. He knew what it meant, the moment the Pharaoh had said their names he knew what it meant. The two people he had gone on missions with, the two people whom he had known for almost three years, who had become his closest companions…they were most likely never coming back. Once he captured the Pharaoh's souls, they were as good as dead—there was no way their souls would survive inside the Great Leviathan.

For just a moment he wanted to say that yes, he hurt. He wanted to say that he felt something for those he had lost, and that right now he was barely able to find a reason to carry out Dartz's orders. He would never again see Valon with one of his mischievous grins in place or Alister reading one of his books in the windowseat ever again—and that fact hurt him almost as much as losing his family had. At that one moment, he just wanted to leave the rooftop and lock himself away; he was weary and tired and he just wanted a moment's peace.

But Master Dartz needed him to finish off the Nameless Pharaoh, even if it meant that he would lose Valon and Alister in the process. Raphael was torn between the two choices he had, but he was a man of his word and he had sworn to help Dartz with his mission. He could feel the Orichalcos stone's weight around his neck that reminded him of that promise, and his resolve hardened. He would get the Nameless Pharaoh's soul, not just for Dartz but for Valon and Alister—or he would join his friends. Either way, it ended now.

All these thoughts had occurred seconds after the Pharaoh had started speaking, and by the time the Pharaoh was finished he had formulated an answer—the first and last time Raphael ever told a successful lie.

"Do you think I really care?"


	50. I Fell Down The Stairs

_My plot bunnies seem to be on a random streak._

_I was re-reading "First Meeting" when a plot bunny leapt up and whacked me with a dictionary and said, "Well that's good and all, but what happened next?" As a result, this came about._

_This one is a sequel to "First Meeting" and then go visit my poll. It's in a stalemate, with both options tied._

* * *

It had only been two days since Valon had arrived at the DOOM temple, but it seemed likely that the boy would soon be leaving it; many complaints were coming in about the boy's disregard for the rules from some of the older members of the organization (mostly from a man named Gurimo), and even Dartz seemed annoyed by Valon's blatant defiance to stick to the rules.

Of all the people that resided in the temple, though, Valon simply could not get along with Alister.

Since the brunette's first mistake of calling Alister a woman, the redhead had said nothing that was not an insult to the teenager; he barely talked at all to Dartz and ignored Raphael entirely, but Valon was given scathing comments the moment the Australian walked into the redhead's line of sight.

Raphael had been doing his best to make sure that Valon followed the rules and stayed out of any physical fights, especially with Alister. If it was one thing that Dartz did not tolerate, it was violence among his own employees; the thought of the Australian—who was barely into his teens—being sent back to an adult prison as a result was abhorrent and he would not have any of it.

He sighed as he came into Valon's room, noticing the boy sitting in the window seat and staring sullenly out the window. Since he'd seen Valon sitting in that same position for the past couple of days every time he got yelled at or got in an argument, it was safe to assume that one of the two had occurred again. It wasn't really fair to the boy, since he didn't know the rules and was expected to follow them as if he had been here for years.

"Leave me 'lone," said the boy irritably, not turning around. He must have heard Raphael come in.

The older blonde thought about it, decided to ignore the request, and instead continued forward to come behind the teenager. "Valon, what happened this time?"

Valon stiffened, still not turning around as he said, "'S'none o' your bus'ness."

Raphael opened his mouth but didn't get a chance to speak, because Valon rose to his feet and tried to push past him. The blonde reached out and caught Valon's upper arm out of instinct, not even aware that he'd grabbed the boy until he felt Valon's shirt beneath his hand.

"It might be an idea to just stay here for a bit," he said quietly, tightening his grip on the teen's arm. "You're obviously upset and talking to anyone right now won't do you any good."

Valon, however, did not seem too fond of that plan. "Now you're doin' it too!_"_ he snapped, pulling his arm out of Raphael's grip. "Everyone 'round 'ere keeps tellin' me what to do, and 've 'ad it! It's always 'don' do this' or 'don' do that,' and 'm sick of it! So jus' bugger off and let me be!"

"Valon—"

"I said _leave me alone!" _

Without a word of warning the boy spun on his heel and whirled around, his hand clenched into a fist and flying toward the older man's face. Raphael, who honestly hadn't expected Valon to punch him, had no time to dodge and it hit him hard on the right side of his face. Stars immediately exploded in his vision and he stumbled backward, using a hand to catch himself on a nearby nightstand before he would have hit the floor, but he still sank to one knee to stay upright.

Valon, meanwhile, realized even as his fist made contact with Raphael what he was about to do, but he had not been able to stop in time. Now he was simply watching Raphael struggle to stand upright, feeling sick all the while.

He hadn't meant to hit the blonde; he had just been so angry that he hadn't thought until it was too late. All of his frustration over being yelled at continuously over the past couple of days had finally gotten to him, and he finally snapped and lashed out.

At the wrong person.

"Raph…" he began uncertainly, moving forward. He hesitated, however, fearful of Raphael's reaction; in his experience living on the streets, he had learned the hard way that if he punched someone he had better expect the guy to hit back.

The blonde wasn't looking at him at the moment, holding one side of his face as he straightened up. He stood for a moment before he began to slowly head for the door. "I'm going to get some ice on this," Raphael said, never turning around as he stepped outside the door. "Please…just stay here until you've calmed down."

Valon watched Raphael shut the door behind him, waiting until the door had shut before whirling around and kicking the wall as hard as he could. Pain ignited along his toes and he let out a half-growl, half whimper as he sank to the floor and held his foot. "Stupid Aussie," he muttered, blinking back hot tears as he looked at his foot. "Why'd you go and 'it 'im? 'e's on'y tryin' to 'elp ya."

He looked miserably back at the door and then rose to his feet, hobbling to the bed before flopping on it. He wouldn't hear the end of this; Alister and Gurimo would immediately pounce on it and—

Valon sat bolt upright on the bed, feeling the color leave his face. He had _punched_ Raphael; he had reached up and had punched the taller man in the face, despite the height difference. There was no way that anyone could miss it—the bruise would be there for the entire world to see. Dartz had warned him about physically attacking anyone in the temple…the green haired man would see the bruise and then…

"'m goin' back to prison," Valon said hoarsely, and then he brought his knees to his chest and buried his head in them.

He struggled not to cry.

* * *

"Raphael, Valon, could you two remain here for just a moment?"

The Australian stayed where he was, masking the fear with a scowl as he gazed back at Dartz. Behind him he could hear Alister and Gurimo already leaving the room, and he longed to join them. Instead, he fought to keep the rising terror off his face as he looked over to Raphael.

True to Valon's suspicions, the bruise on Raphael's face was plainly visible; it was kind of hard not to notice it, actually. The blue-black area took up most of the space beneath Raphael's right eye, and had this been any other person Valon might have been proud that one of his punches had that kind of destructive power.

Raphael had tried to slip unnoticed into the room for the meeting but immediately had attention drawn to him by Gurimo, who had spotted the bruise first. Even Alister seemed surprised, his eyebrows shooting up as he looked at Raphael; the redhead seemed to piece together what had happened and for the rest of the meeting Valon could feel a pair of gray eyes watching him intently.

Before Raphael could even try to say anything about it Dartz had walked into the room, beginning the meeting as if nothing was wrong. If he saw the bruise he said nothing about it, instead briefing Gurimo on his next assignment and letting the three young men know that their first mission as a team would occur in two weeks.

Valon had thought that maybe by some miraculous chance that the older man had not noticed, but when the man had called both of their names he felt his heart sink.

Dartz had noticed.

"Raphael," said the man with a stern note in his voice, "do you want to explain to me what happened to your face?"

Valon fought hard to keep his indifferent scowl in place, but his heart was beating too fast and loud and he glanced over at Raphael. The older blonde had not looked at him once that morning, avoiding eye contact for the duration of the meeting, and Valon's heart sank further. He was doomed, he was going back to prison, he was—

"I fell down the stairs."

…_What?_

Valon's head snapped back to Raphael, not bothering to hide his surprise. The blonde was looking steadily back at Dartz, though his shoulders were tight and he seemed distinctly uneasy. "I was coming down the stairs last night and I didn't think to turn on the lights," he continued with an embarrassed shrug. "I hit my face on the side of the railing."

Dartz's eyes were watching Raphael intently. "Is that right?"

Raphael nodded, but there was something about his posture that Valon could see was off. It was obvious that the older man was not used to blatantly lying, and not even a blind man could miss it.

The Atlantean watched him for one last minute before he sighed, turning to the Australian. "As for you, Valon…I take it that you are adjusting to your new surroundings?"

Valon was more than startled at the abrupt question, and he could only manage a gruff, "Gettin' there."

"It's rough, especially for someone of your upbringing, but in the end I think you'll manage," replied Dartz simply, his eyes remaining unreadable. There was something in that tone, however, that told Valon he hadn't believed Raphael's story in the slightest—and it was serving as a silent warning.

He turned away from them, beginning to leave the room. "On that note, you both are dismissed."

Raphael nodded again, dipping his head forward enough to be distinguished as a sign of respect, before he turned and left the room. Valon stared back at Dartz's retreating back with a flabbergasted expression before he ran after the blonde. He caught up to Raphael at the entrance to the resident's hall and moved in front of him, blocking his path.

"You do realize that 'e didn' believe a word o' that," he said simply.

Raphael shrugged. "I wasn't lying; I prefer telling the truth. Master Dartz knows that, which is why he didn't push too hard. I did stretch it a bit with the railing, though. That was why I wasn't looking at you, by the way—I was afraid I would blow it."

The Australian stared back at him in disbelief. "Y'mean you really did fall down the stairs?" he said faintly.

"One tends to do that when they can't see straight," said Raphael wryly.

It took Valon a minute to realize what Raphael was talking about before he looked away guiltily. "Raph, about wha' 'appened…'m right sorry, I didn' mean t' 'it ya, i's just…" he began, but Raphael held a hand up.

"I'm not mad at you. If I was, Valon, I would've told Master Dartz what really happened," he said quietly.

Valon looked at the older man, realized that he meant what he said, and he felt a surge of respect for Raphael. Like their first meeting, his words held a genuine note in them. Raphael wasn't mad…he had understood why Valon had hit him.

Raphael was someone he could count on.

"'ey mate…thanks," he said awkwardly, allowing Raphael to pass him before following after him.

A slight smile appeared on Raphael's face, his eyes conveying the unspoken reply. "Do me a favor, though," he said with exasperated amusement.

"Wha's that?"

"In the near future could you warn me when you're about to punch me? Believe it or not that actually _hurt_."

Valon grinned and lightly cuffed the blonde's shoulder. "Sure thing, Raph."


	51. Butterflies

_This came to me just yesterday, when I was sitting out on my patio. We've had an abundance of butterflies at our house lately, and I guess my plot bunnies seem to be in cahoots with them—they came up with this after one of them decided to perch on my toe._

_Post-DOOM Gentleshipping present for Always a Bookworm (thanks for your continuing support), and after reading this go see my profile news section…thing…_

_…A reward for the person who comes up with a catchy name for that part of my profile._

* * *

Valon blinked in confusion. "Shizuka, whatcha doin'?"

His girlfriend was sitting on the bumpy surface of the apartment's patio, her legs tucked to her side and semi-hidden beneath the white skirt she was wearing. One of her hands kept her upright and acted as a prop, and her other hand seemed to be holding something. As she turned, Valon's eyebrows rose in surprise when he saw what was perched on her index finger.

The butterfly was a medium sized one, its wings black with orange trim. Even as he watched the delicate looking wings fluttered as Shizuka turned, remaining on the girl's finger nonetheless and folding its wings up seconds later.

"It landed on me when I was watering the flowers," she said, beaming up at Valon and her green-gray eyes alight.

Valon grinned, squatting down next to her and taking care not to move too quickly. "Is tha' right?" he asked, watching it flutter its wings again.

He had never seen one of the elusive insects up close; the few he had seen in Sydney had always fluttered away from him when he had gotten too close, and he was fairly sure he hadn't seen one like this one in the city.

Shizuka carefully adjusted to a more comfortable position, taking care not to dislodge the butterfly on her finger. "Isn't it pretty?" she asked, her face taking on a child-like quality as she looked with wonder at the butterfly.

"Yup. A pretty butterfly with a pretty girl…tha' seems about right," Valon replied thoughtfully, sitting all the way down and folding his legs loosely in a cross-legged position.

She looked up at him, her eyes lighting up and her face flushing at the compliment. A few seconds later she smiled and said, "I just had a great idea. Hold your finger out, Valon."

The brunette raised an eyebrow but complied, sticking out his finger to her. His eyebrows shot up further when she carefully scooted closer to him and held out the finger with the butterfly on it. The tip of her finger made contact with his, lightly pressing against the ball of his finger.

At the movement of Shizuka's hand the butterfly began to slowly crawl forward along her finger, and by the time she had connected her finger to Valon's the butterfly had gotten to her fingernail. After a few seconds of hesitation the insect transferred from her finger to Valon's.

Valon's breath caught as the feather light butterfly came onto his right finger, slowly bringing his hand back to him to look down at it. He could feel the tiny little feet on his finger, creating an odd but pleasant tickling sensation. He could even feel it flutter its wings when the butterfly opened them.

He looked over at Shizuka, who had gotten to her feet and was watching him with a warm smile. "Stay just the way you are," she said, slowly rising to her feet.

Valon looked up at her with a hint of alarm. "Wait a minute, now. I don' think I can sit still—"

"Don't worry, it won't take too long," replied the petite girl with a mischievous smile, moving carefully past him and into her apartment. "Don't move, Valon."

The Australian let out a compressed sigh, returning his attention to the butterfly on his finger; he held his arm out a ways so it wouldn't think he was a threat and fly off. He decided that, since he was stuck there anyway, he should take a closer look at the butterfly while he had the chance.

The butterfly opened its wings all the way now, leaving them open to bask in the sunshine, and Valon could see the black and orange markings on the wings; at the tips of the wings were tiny white spots, scattered in a semi-noticeable pattern at the edges.

A movement from the corner of his eye made him turn his head fractionally toward the door of the apartment, and he blinked as a sudden blur appeared in front of his face. He nearly bolted backwards until he remembered the butterfly on his finger and he resolutely kept still. He couldn't quite tell what was fluttering in front of his face—

But whatever it was decided to land on the tip of his nose.

He recognized the feathery light weight, which was the only reason he didn't immediately swat at it.

Valon looked down his nose to get a better look at the butterfly, taking care not to disturb the other one as he looked at it. After a few moments, he realized that this was the same kind of butterfly that was resting on his finger, only slightly larger. It stared back at him, fluttering its wings for a moment before spreading them and mirroring its smaller counterpart.

He heard a weird click and he raised his cerulean eyes toward the sound.

Shizuka had crouched down in the entry way of the back patio, a camera in hand; slung over her shoulder was her purse. She smiled broadly when she noticed that Valon was looking at her but motioned for him to stay still, taking another picture even as he shot a startled gaze at her.

A cool breeze blew by, catching the end of Valon's bangs and pushing them gently toward the butterfly on his nose. The insect fluttered its wings for one more moment before taking flight, flying up and out of Valon's sight for a few seconds before reappearing and flying past his face. The other butterfly decided to follow after its companion, fluttering after the larger one as they soared out of sight of the balcony.

Valon rose to his feet moments after the butterflies had departed, looking over at Shizuka with a slightly apologetic expression. "'m sorry, love," he said, rubbing the back of his head. "I was kinda 'opin' they'd stick around so I could give your butterfly friend back."

"Don't even worry about it, Valon," the auburn-haired girl said warmly, slipping her hand through his as he came back inside. The two began heading for the door, hands still intertwined. "I have something much better."

Valon looked down at her, arching an eyebrow. "Oh? And tha' would be…?"

Shizuka gazed back up at him evenly, her eyes twinkling with mirth. "I have a picture of my boyfriend with the butterflies. That's more than enough for me."


	52. Happy Birthday, Valon!

_Here is the last of Alister's Girlfriend's birthday requests. Post-DOOM and a Happy Birthday to Valon!_

* * *

They _forgot._

It was his eighteenth birthday, for crying out loud. He had _officially_ turned eighteen today, and his best friends had forgotten all about it. Valon let his head hit the desk for what felt like the fiftieth time that morning and let out a heavy sigh.

He had to have dropped every hint under the sun to them and even Alister hadn't seemed to understand what he was implying (and he of all people should have gotten it—he was the one obsessed with all those mystery books). Raphael was not exactly a morning person to begin with, but he'd already had a cup of coffee; he had been wide awake and he had not figured out what Valon was blatantly hinting at.

Valon should have just mentioned his birthday was today and be done with it, but it was the principle of the thing that bothered him—which was the fact that_ his best friends had forgotten his birthday._

He dropped his head down onto the desk again with a thunk. That made it fifty-one times.

"One would think that after a certain point what you're doing would cause brain damage," said a voice sardonically, and the Australian looked up at his doorway grumpily.

Alister was leaning against the doorframe and watching him with a raised eyebrow, another one of his perfected emotionless looks in place. He had a book in hand and looked like he was about to head downstairs. "I assume you have some reason for doing that," he continued, looking boredly at the boy's sudden scowl.

"Like you care?" retorted Valon.

Alister raised an eyebrow. "No need to bite my head off," he replied, already turning away to go downstairs. "On another note, Raphael says that if all you're going to do around here is sulk you can go to the grocery store and get us some groceries."

Valon blinked. "But we jus' went there yesterday," he said, getting to his feet and crossing his room to his older friend.

"We forgot some things. I don't know how we managed that, but we did," the redhead commented, stepping into the room to hand Valon a small piece of paper.

The boy looked at the paper and repressed a groan. "Well no wonder we missed 'em," he exclaimed. "You can' find 'alf of this 'ere list a' the grocery store! "

The red-haired man looked over Valon's shoulder at the paper, raising an eyebrow at the contents. "The hardware store is one place you would need to go, followed by the grocery store and then the automotive place downtown. Looks like you'll be busy."

"Couldn' you come with, Alister?" asked Valon hopefully. "I could use some 'elp."

"I can't. I have to go to the center later on today," said Alister flatly, turning to walk down the stairs. "And no, I am not making it up," he called over his shoulder as he disappeared from view, correctly interpreting Valon's next sentence.

Valon looked at the paper with another heavy sigh, stepping into his room to collect his boots. He sat in the chair he had been previously occupied as he pulled on his shoes. Why couldn't someone else do it today? It _was_ his birthday after—

Oh wait. His good-for-nothing friends seemed to have forgotten about it.

…Fifty-two times this morning.

* * *

Valon did not get done with the errands until later on that evening, when the sun had already gone down.

For some reason one of the tires on his motorcycle had run out of air halfway through his errands, despite the fact that he had just checked the air in them last night, and he'd been forced to stop and refill the air on both the tires. He'd stopped by the house after that to drop off some of the more perishable groceries before heading out to complete the rest of what was needed on the list.

He'd gotten most of what was left, but one of the items on the list kept evading him and he had spent most of the afternoon pursuing it—none of the stores he had gone to had anything on their shelves that went by the item's name and it was rather frustrating.

What made it even more troublesome was that it was the last item on his list. If he found it he could turn around and go home; he mentally reminded himself to ask Raphael just what the heck "Hippo Birdie Two Ewe" was, let alone what it was supposed to be used for.

In the end he had been forced to give up and he drove home, stopping briefly by Shizuka's house; she had texted him earlier in the day to stop by, and when he had Valon was presented with a small parcel wrapped in butterfly-adorned tissue paper. "Don't open it until you get home," she had said with a smile.

Valon grinned down at the package as he took off his helmet and set it on the seat, holding the small square package in one hand while he picked up the bags on the side of the motorcycle and began walking to the house. At least Shizuka had remembered what today was, and even Marik had sent a text wishing him a happy birthday. Raphael and Alister, though, were useless.

He fished around in his pocket for the house key and fit it into the lock, opening the door and stepping inside as he pulled it shut behind him.

Raphael was sitting in a recliner that was in the family room, watching some unnamed program; when Valon came in the blonde had looked up, a flicker of relief in his blue eyes as he spotted the Australian. "I was beginning to wonder if you were coming home," he commented.

Alister, who had been perched in the window seat, also looked over at Valon. "It took you long enough, at any rate," he said flatly, setting his book down to watch the teenager.

"Yeah, well…wha' the bloody 'eck is 'Hippo Birdie Two Ewe'? I went around to ev'ry store I could think of 'n' no one's ever 'eard of it," Valon said irritably. "Tha's why I was out so long and…wha's so funny, Raph?"

The older man had an amused expression on his face, mixed with a hint of disbelief. "You mean to tell me you didn't figure it out?" Raphael asked incredulously, beginning to laugh.

"Figure wha' out?" replied Valon with a confused expression.

Alister also seemed to be having trouble keeping his amusement off his face. "I told you that he wouldn't figure it out, Raphael," he said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Me sabotaging his tires wasn't going to be enough. What was on your list kept him busier than what I did."

Valon stared at first Alister and then Raphael with a bewildered expression on his face. "You're the one who sabotaged m' bike, Alister?" he asked indignantly.

"Of course," Alister deadpanned. "I knew you well enough to know that you would recognize it and pull over before you got into too much trouble."

"And what are you two blokes goin' on about with me not figurin' somethin' out?" Valon continued with a scowl, placing his hands on his hips. "Wha's so funny?"

Raphael started to openly laugh. "Set the bags down and go look in the kitchen," he said, grinning broadly at the now thoroughly confused teenager.

Valon hesitated only for a moment before setting the bags down at the doorway and heading for the kitchen, wondering what joke he was apparently missing out on as he peered through the doorway. His blue eyes wandered around the kitchen for a brief moment before they landed on the table, and he felt his mouth drop open.

Several brightly colored balloons had been placed in a loose pattern on the wooden surface, appearing to be taped to the table to prevent Misa from knocking them off. A small and circular white cake was sitting in the middle of the table, resting on top of what appeared to be two wrapped packages.

Suddenly Valon remembered what the last item had been on Raphael's list and he groaned. Now he got it.

Hippo Birdie Two Ewe.

Happy Birthday To You.

"…'ave I mentioned b'fore that you two blokes 're bloody evil?"


	53. Facing The Future

_Raise your hands if you've ever fallen asleep in front of a blank Word Document and wake up to see that a plot bunny magically typed itself._

_…No, for real. This one was typed up in my sleep. I don't lie._

_I'm not sure what corner this was hiding in, but it is decidedly different than the other shots, I can promise you that. I'm not sure how I feel about posting this…reviewers, what do you think?_

_Post-DOOM, mention of Gentleshipping, and after this go check out the new section thingamajig (name that section of my profile and you get a prize)._

* * *

It's inevitable.

Eventually, the three of them know that one day their way of life must come to an end. Life is full of meetings and partings, and theirs is no exception—if anything, theirs is above and beyond the norm. They know that they can't stay rooted in the present for much longer, because in the lull of a post-DOOM life all three of them can see the road to their futures beginning to take shape.

In their earlier years not one of them noticed it, seeing how as their childhoods were full of chaos and each of them fighting for the right to even live. All they could really focus on was to just simply get through the day and live to see another sunrise; two of the three spent the majority of their younger years with that thought in mind, while the third and eldest only spent a part of his life living in that situation, but nonetheless it was their way of life in those dark times and they clung to it for as long as possible.

When Dartz had brought them together initially, they still had not given any real thought about where they were heading or what the future might hold. The youngest still stubbornly clung to the philosophy that kept him alive in the streets, the eldest simply devoted himself to the carrying out of Dartz's goals and did not give his future a second thought, while the last of them debated whether to end any hope of life after vengeance against his enemy was carried out.

As the three had started getting to know each other, their ideas slowly shifted. The oldest began to look beyond Dartz's goals, wondering if maybe there might be more to life that he had missed. Their youngest comrade modified his way of life, so that instead of fighting for the right to live he lived in the moment and took whatever came at him in stride. It was actually the second eldest of them that honestly began thinking about what the future might bring, though he never spent too much time on it for fear of provoking the dark thoughts in his mind.

They went on with their lives during that time, only sparingly thinking about their future. They were kept busy, running Dartz's errands and living only in the present. They had no time to ultimately ponder on what the future might bring, and even if they could what would they do about it? The Leviathan would destroy the Earth, and the idea of a future was laughable.

The illusion wouldn't last.

In the chaos that resulted from the aftermath of the DOOM organization's collapse their fragile, semi-tranquil life was thrown into disarray once again and the foul influence of the Orichalcos was removed from their minds. For the first time in years they were able to think clearly.

It nearly drove all of them mad.

All of their memories about their original lives before DOOM had been almost obliterated, much to their horror. What they could remember was only fragments, and those fleeting thoughts were pain-filled and agonizing to remember. The present held no hope either; since all three had lost their souls and their bodies had been scattered, they woke up in unfamiliar surroundings alone and confused. The road in front of them at that point was confusing to navigate and even more frightening to walk on. After only living in the past and present, stepping into the future was difficult because it meant letting go of everything that they had done over the years and moving forward.

The task was not easy, and the three of them sought each other out only when they had put their lives in order.

When they met up again they chose to stick together. Facing the future and what it held was frightening, but the fear and mystery of it all was lessened with the comforting presence of familiar faces. They moved into a home formerly owned by Paradius and started living what could loosely be termed as a normal life.

But a year and a half later, when DOOM was no longer a factor in their lives, Time that had been frozen by the Orichalcos began to move forward again. Though not one of them brought it up aloud, they all were thinking the same thought. Just as the illusion that Dartz had created hadn't lasted, this lifestyle wouldn't last.

Eventually, they would have to part ways.

The thought terrified all of them. They had spent their younger years alone, and the idea that they will eventually have to head out on their own is scarier than even the threat of the Orichalcos can inspire. But the thought is still looming over their heads, and it shows no sign of going away.

Shizuka would not be in high school for much longer and she was eyeing an out-of-city college; the likelihood was high that their youngest friend would follow after her, seeing how it was his girlfriend who was moving. The oldest of them was beginning to feel the stirrings of an age-old instinct to find that special someone to settle down with and start a family. The second eldest just felt restless and the urge to get out on his own for a while; it wouldn't be surprising if the former moved out first.

It's inevitable. Time will continue to move forward and eventually they'll have to head out to face their uncertain futures.

The main thing is that, unlike their childhoods, they can face their futures with confidence. They have no idea of what will happen to them as time marches on, and they may part ways and move to different locations.

But that won't stop them from being friends, and that thought alone allows them to move forward with their heads held high; they won't truly be alone, and this time if something goes wrong they have each other to help them get back to their feet. When the time comes for them to separate, they'll be ready.

Until that time comes, however, Raphael, Alister, and Valon are content to stay together.


	54. Like Riding A Bike

_We've had a bit of confusion going around as to the status of this story._

_The last chapter seemed to have everyone think that it was done; I can understand that assumption, because it certainly sounds like that. This is me saying, "Don't go! It ain't over yet!"_

_Anyway, this one was inspired by Mozart's Cantata 147. I was listening to it today when this plot bunny mauled me (funny how they work. When I am not preparing to leave on vacation they rebel, but when I am desperately trying to pack they maul me like rabid dogs)._

_This one occurs during DOOM (not too long after "Meeting" and "I Fell Down The Stairs"), and it's slightly inspired from one of LuckyLadybug's stories. After this please visit my profile. I need you to vote on a poll—again _:D

* * *

Raphael stared tentatively at the instrument.

He had been in the main ballroom of the Paradius Corporation building, checking up on decorating plans for an evening party that would be occurring that evening; Raphael himself was not attending the event, and neither were his comrades. Master Dartz would be here later in the evening to accommodate his guests, and the Atlantean wanted the blonde to make certain preparations were ready.

He'd been nearly finished when he saw the piano in the corner of the spacious ballroom.

The effect was magnetic.

Irresistibly he had made his way across the room to the instrument, his eyes never really leaving the black piece of furniture as he weaved his way through the tables and chairs. He arrived at his destination and then simply stood there, unsure of why he was over here or what he was planning to do now; actually, the blonde man felt foolish that he had come over here for no apparent reason.

Raphael sighed, carefully sitting down on the bench and staring at the ivory colored keys with his blue eyes, wondering if he could actually play something even though he hadn't touched the instrument before him in years.

The isolation on the island had almost completely driven that knowledge away; piano playing wasn't exactly beneficial for survival if you were trapped on an island for three years. As a result, most of his memories that involved the piano were so far back that he could only remember his hands (so much smaller than they were now) gliding effortlessly across the piano keys.

Raphael shook his head, heaving a sigh as he rose to his feet. It was silly to think about playing the piano now; he still had work to do and he could not play the instrument with so much work left to do. But as he rose to his feet he inadvertently lost his balance, and he placed a hand on the edge of the keyboard to steady himself. One of his hands brushed a few of the ivory keys, resulting in a jarring, plinking sound.

Raphael jumped in surprise, looking down at where his hand rested. He lifted his hand to look down at the keyboard, and he found himself automatically beginning to identify the notes and remembering the basics of how to play the piano.

He caught himself at it, though, and he shook his head ruefully. He was_ not_ going to indulge himself in a childhood memory. He had things that he needed to do—Raphael had no time whatsoever to slack off. With that thought in mind he turned and resolutely left the room.

Within seconds, however, he found himself in front of the piano once again.

Raphael glanced around at his surroundings, making certain that no one was coming or had come into the room before he sat down on the bench once again and made himself comfortable. He looked down at the ivory keys and he mentally began to review the keys in front of him, identifying each one.

He glanced around at his surroundings once again. Maybe…maybe he would play the instrument. Just for a bit, until someone came in; it wasn't as if he had anything overly pressing to do. Sure, he had to make certain that all the preparations were complete, but didn't that include making sure that the piano was in tune?

It was like riding a bicycle (or a motorcycle, in his case)—one truly couldn't forget how to play the piano. Raphael played it so much as a child; this should be instinctive by now, shouldn't it? Maybe he did know how to play…Raphael could at least try, since no one was there in the room with him. No one would hear him mess up in here; he was free to make as many mistakes as he wanted.

Raphael took a minute to decide which of the few pieces that he actually remembered learning before he took a deep breath and began to play.

At first, the notes were slow and hesitant, and his hands clumsily moved across the keyboard. Mistakes were frequent, and he was certain that if he had an audience they would be cringing at how many mistakes were audible.

But he didn't stop because of the errors, and Raphael kept playing persistently. The more he tried, the more the memories came back to him; he wasn't about to give up now, not when he was so close to remembering.

Gradually, the mistakes made became fewer in number until they no longer existed. The music issuing from the piano filled the room with a smoothness that hadn't been there minutes before, and Raphael found that he was no longer sitting in an empty corporate ballroom.

Instead, he was an eleven year old boy who was at home with his family and they were watching him with warm smiles as he played the instrument. Sonia and Julien were sitting next to him on the piano bench, watching him with wonder and delight as he came toward the end of the piece. When he finished playing, though, the vision vanished as abruptly as it had come. The warm feeling vanished and Raphael sighed tiredly, looking at the ivory keys beneath his fingers.

"I didn't know you could play the piano."

The voice startled Raphael, and he looked over his shoulder sharply.

Alister was watching him emotionlessly from one of the table's seats, gray orbs unreadable. "I didn't strike you for the piano playing type," he continued, and Raphael heard the faintly impressed note beneath the sentence.

The older blonde was surprised. This was the first time Alister had actually said more than a simple hello to him, and he was a bit surprised. He recovered, though, and rose to his feet. "I used to," replied Raphael gruffly, rising from the piano bench and moving around it to walk to Alister. "I haven't played a piano in years. It probably sounded awful."

The redhead shrugged. "The piano's in tune, at any rate."

Before Raphael could reply, Alister had risen to his feet and was speaking. "I was sent by Gurimo to find you. He claims that Valon will be a selfish pig and start munching on the buffet unless you regain control over him."

Raphael raised an eyebrow at the red-haired man's distasteful expression. "I take it you don't like Gurimo," he said wryly.

"Do you?" the other man replied challengingly.

"…I'd prefer not to answer that."

Alister seemed to almost smile at the reply, but Raphael couldn't truly tell since the other man was good at keeping his face straight. The blonde stepped past Alister to head out into the hallway, but then Alister's voice made him pause.

"It wasn't half bad, you know."

Confused, the older man turned back to face the redhead. "What wasn't?" he asked, watching Alister catch up to him.

"What you were playing on the piano. For someone who hasn't played it in a while, it wasn't half bad."

Alister brushed past him at that point, ending the conversation. Raphael hesitated for a moment longer, looking back into the expansive ballroom and at the piano before following after his companion. Gurimo wasn't going to be able to hold Valon back for long, and Raphael was certain he'd have a hard time explaining to Dartz why the teenager had ended up dead.

He stared at the piano for one final minute before he shook his head and left the room, shutting the door behind him. Those days were over and done with; he needed to focus on what he was doing now, instead of getting caught up in faded memories.

…It wasn't too long after that thought had passed when Raphael decided he would come back after the party was over.


	55. Reality Check: Part I

_At long last, it has arrived—the beginning to Alister's story arc._

_A big thank you goes to Alister's Girlfriend for giving me an initial plot bunny to work with. I was trying to figure out what I could do with Alister when she gave me a suggestion (if I say what it was, I'll spoil it). I was pondering and puzzling on that when I left on vacation, and then last week a plot bunny poked its head out from its burrow and gave me this._

_On another note, continue to vote on my poll please. Your input is as valuable as silver, and reviews are worth more than gold :D_

* * *

His head hurt.

Ultimately, that was what woke him up; the throbbing of his skull was in time to the rhythm of his heartbeat, and it was painful enough to pull him out from the shadowy recesses of his mind. Before that point, though, he had been sleeping dreamlessly, so the transition from sleep to reality was slow and sluggish.

As he woke up more he determined that something was distinctly off about his surroundings, because his bedroom at home certainly didn't smell like rubbing alcohol and didn't beep constantly. Come to think of it, why did his arm hurt so badly? It felt heavy and when he tried to lift it up a distinct fiery spike of pain traveled up from his wrist; it hurt almost as badly as his head, which felt like someone had weighed it down with concrete and then driven a hammer through it.

Something had happened to him, that much was obvious…but what had happened to cause pain like this? Was whatever had happened serious? Was he in a hospital? Maybe he had crashed his motorcycle and had broken his wrist or something like that. He wouldn't be surprised if it had happened—it was rare for anyone who owned a motorcycle to not get in a wreck.

He thought he could hear someone talking, though they sounded like they were from a distance. He was grateful for the muted tones of their voice, whoever they were; they must have realized that he had an awful headache, and he was pleased that their words did little to worsen the pain in his skull.

He could not physically frown at that moment (it hurt his head too much), but that didn't stop him from feeling puzzled when he realized that he could not hear either of his friends talking; there was no gruff but concerned voice asking questions or an Australian accented voice muttering about careless behavior to mask his own concern. If he had been in an accident, shouldn't they both be nearby? It was not like them to ignore him if he had gotten hurt.

Then again, if they didn't know that he had been in an accident then it would be silly to assume too early that they had run into a spot of trouble and weren't coming. Since it would most likely hurt to open his eyes, he kept them closed and listened to the murmur of the voices around him. He determined he was in a hospital of sorts, since he could hear hissing noises and similar beeps coming from all sides.

As he listened to the two voices nearest him, he figured out that one of them was a woman (most likely a nurse) and the other was a young boy; the child sounded oddly familiar, as if he had heard that voice before. Perhaps it was Mokuba…but no, it couldn't be. Why would Kaiba's brother be here, unless he had been involved somehow?

He deciphered that the conversation was not pertaining to him in the slightest, since it sounded as if the questions were being directed at the boy concerning his health. He disengaged himself from the conversation and was actually about to drift off to sleep again when a woman's voice said, "You and your brother were lucky enough to survive such an awful experience. I heard about that tank explosion earlier from one of my colleagues, and I'm just thankful that you boys weren't hurt worse."

Immediately, all drowsiness fled and warning bells began to go off in his mind.

What tank? What explosion? What on earth had he gotten himself into? What was a tank doing in Domino City? For that matter, what did this woman mean by "brother?" The only brother he had was dead and had been for nine years.

The questions were more than enough motivation for him to open his eyes and to figure out what on earth was going on. Of course, he opened them too quickly in his alarm and the blinding white light of the hospital was more than enough to make his already aching head throb worse. He let out an inadvertent groan and closed his eyes again, mustering up the energy to open them again.

It was just disorientation, that was all. He had misheard things and there was probably someone near him who the nurse was talking to. But still, he would feel much better if he got a look around at his surroundings…just to be sure…

"Alister? Are you waking up?"

A child's hopeful voice, so achingly familiar and yet so far away…he knew that voice, it was too familiar to not remember…there was only one person in the world who had that voice…

"Please wake up, big brother."

And that person was dead.

The earlier alarm Alister had felt returned in full force, and his eyes snapped open. He sat bolt upright, ignoring the way his head was now pounding from the movement and from the abrupt exposure from the light as he looked around at his surroundings wildly.

A small boy was seated near the bed, his gray eyes widened in comical alarm. His copper colored hair was ruffled and unkempt, but it was recognizable—as was the child.

Even as Alister watched, the boy's alarmed expression vanished to be replaced with a relieved one. "You're awake!" he cried, shooting out of the chair and leaping up onto the bed to hug him. "I was so worried you weren't going to wake up!"

The alarm was replaced with numb disbelief, and it was more out of reflex that he returned the hug. "M-Miruko…?" Alister asked uncertainly, noting with surprise that he didn't recognize the voice who had spoken. Certainly, it didn't sound like his normal tone…it almost sounded as if he had gotten younger…

Miruko beamed up at him, grinning widely. "Yup! You were sleeping for a long time, 'cause you got hurt. But now you're fine and awake again!" he said cheerfully, and in spite of his confusion Alister had to smile.

Dream or not, Miruko was more than welcome here.

"The nurse told me to go get her if you woke up, so she could make sure you were really okay," the boy continued, sliding off the bed and looking reluctant to leave.

Alister thought about it. Perhaps the nurse could answer a few of his questions and help him puzzle out what was going on. "Go ahead and get her, Miruko. I'll be here when you get back."

Miruko's eyes lit up and his head bobbed enthusiastically. "Okay!"

He watched his brother bounce away down the aisle, noting that his bed wasn't the only one in here; it seemed like there were others, hidden by curtains. He decided that it wouldn't hurt to try and figure out what was going on around here until the nurse came, so he looked around at his surroundings.

He was in a hospital, Alister was certain of that much, but beyond that he was not sure about much else and he…wait a minute.

His wandering gaze locked onto a bed across from him, taking in the sight of a wounded man laying there. It was no one he knew, but that wasn't what had made Alister look.

What had caught his attention was the military helmet perched on the bedpost at the end of the bed.

Alister looked around at his surroundings uneasily, and suddenly he realized that this was a temporary hospital, nothing like the ones he'd been in recently. In fact, if he didn't know better Alister would say that he was in one of the field hospitals that had been set up in his hometown during the war.

He blinked in puzzlement when he realized that someone was looking at him and Alister turned his head to meet their gaze.

A boy of about twelve stared at him, his unruly red hair framing his face. A pair of startled gray eyes peered out from beneath the bandages wrapped around his head and through his hair. He wore a faded teal shirt, and Alister could see the bandages wrapped on the boy's arm; they were stained a pink color, probably from a cut of some kind.

Abruptly, his breath caught.

He was looking in a mirror. The boy staring back at him was Alister himself.

This was a dream, it had to be one. There was no way that this was real. He knew that, and yet the sharp smell of the rubbing alcohol was real, the pain in his arm and head was real, the weight from Miruko's body on the bed had been real, and Miruko's hug had been real.

But then what about his friends? Had everything that had happened…had it all been a dream? It could not be, it was all too vivid—

Even as he thought about it though, he found with renewed alarm that he could not remember what either of them looked like, let alone their names. He barely could remember anything pertaining to them, in fact, and he could not recall the organization that he had spent most of his life working at.

How had he gotten hurt then? He tried to remember…he'd initially thought something about a motorcycle and something about a domino, but even those thoughts were faded and blurred…as if he'd been dreaming the whole time.

"Are you all right, honey?" asked a woman's voice, and Alister looked up in time to see a dark haired woman cross the room to his bed, a concerned expression in her blue eyes. He realized that it was the same nurse that had been talking earlier. Miruko was behind her, his own gray eyes were concerned as well as they looked at Alister.

The redhead stared at the friendly looking nurse with a dazed and confused expression on his face. There were so many emotions churning in his mind right now, so many questions plaguing his thoughts, that it physically hurt him, and now he was just so...so…

The words slipped from his mouth before Alister could stop them. "I'm lost."


	56. Reality Check: Part II

_Here's part two for you, dear readers!_

_I would have had this up sooner, but I had an accident of sorts—I fell down the stairs and hit the corner of the banister on the way down. That gave me a really good concussion (the bump I have is one to make Alister proud). I have recovered from that for the most part, but if something seems to be a bit off kilter let me know…though it could just be me being paranoid._

* * *

The nurse looked back at Alister with motherly concern. "Lost about what, dear?"

Alister shook his head, trying to put words to the emotional turmoil currently raging inside of him. None of this was possible, it couldn't have happened because Miruko was still alive. Regardless of everything else in his surroundings that were familiar to him, his younger brother had died in that tank…so why was he still living and breathing?

_Maybe everything was a horrible nightmare, _whispered a hopeful voice in his mind, _and Miruko managed to avoid the tank explosion._

Alister frowned. He wanted to believe that thought, he really did; the idea of his brother surviving that explosion certainly had merit. But yet, everything that had happened in the aftermath of his brother's death was far too detailed to be a dream. Though he couldn't recall any of it now he knew he could not simply dismiss it. That would be careless, among other things.

The nurse had still been speaking while he had been trying to get his thoughts together, and Alister looked up at her with an apologetic expression. "I'm sorry, but could you repeat that?" he asked, carefully keeping his voice down to avoid making his head throb.

"I was just saying it was common for people who experience severe head trauma to experience some disorientation and memory loss," said the woman kindly, pulling a flashlight out from her breast pocket and turning it on. "Now look at me, dear."

Alister complied, still too confused to truly argue yet. The nurse shone the light at his each of his eyes, remaining silent as she worked. "Your eyes are still showing signs of anisocoria," she said seconds later, shutting the light off with a soft _click. _"You've got a pretty good concussion on your hands."

Miruko looked up at her with a baffled look on his face. "What's ani…anisc…what does that mean?" he asked, giving up on pronouncing the word correctly. Alister felt a small smile tug at the corner of his mouth, in spite of himself.

"Anisocoria is just a really big word for pupil dilation," said the nurse cheerfully. "One of his pupils is larger than the other right now; that usually occurs when you get a knock on the head," she continued, playfully patting his younger brother's head. The child giggled, pushing her hand away.

Alister's small smile grew in size. To hear Miruko laugh again was worth more to him than anything in the world. He had almost forgotten what it had sounded like, thanks to…thanks to…well, whatever it was that had made him forget it.

But, he remembered as his smile faded, he still needed to figure out what happened to put him here. He had to piece everything together, and to do that he was going to have to delve a little more into the circumstances surrounding his hospital stay. He waited until the nurse left before he looked at his brother.

"Miruko, what happened to me?" he asked with a certain amount of reluctance.

Miruko looked up at him with his innocent gray eyes. "We were in the refugee camp and the bad men attacked it with their guns. They were blowing things up—bang! Boom!" he emphasized, spreading his hands out around him in demonstration.

Alister felt another smile tug at his mouth, but he forced it down and focused instead on his brother. "Then what, Miruko?"

"Well, we were running and you told me to get on the tank so I would be safe. I dropped Mama's locket and you went after it," said Miruko, his eyes flickering. "I wanted to go with you, but you told me to stay put because it was safer."

Alister felt his breath catch in his throat. He remembered every detail, every minute of that day: the smoke, the gunfire, the sharp acrid smell of the gunpowder, the heat of the blast…and everything Miruko was saying correlated with that memory.

Except for the glaring fact that his brother was alive.

"And then?" Alister asked, swallowing hard.

Miruko got a worried expression on his face and squirmed guiltily in his seat. "I know you told me to stay put, but I dropped Dyna Dude…" he trailed off apologetically, looking down at his hands at the charred toy he was gripping. "I couldn't let him get blown up! He won't be able to save the day then!" he added defensively, misinterpreting his older brother's suddenly shocked expression.

Alister felt oddly light-headed. Why hadn't it ever occurred to him that maybe Miruko had somehow gotten off the tank? He'd looked, certainly, but thinking back on it now he could only remember snatches of that desperate and futile search; the emotional distress he'd been in had not helped him any with that task. His younger brother had instructions that should a battle arise that he was to go hide, no matter what the circumstances may be—had Miruko followed his brother's instructions after the tank had exploded?

Miruko confirmed the answer to that question moments later. "After the tank blew up I got scared and hid like you told me to, but then I realized that you might have gotten hurt and I went back. When I got there…you weren't moving and you were hurt…and then one of the good guys found us and brought you here, and we've been here since then."

Alister frowned as he began examining the new information. Had there been a second explosion that he had been caught in? If so, why didn't he remember it? It should be fairly easy to remember, one would think—especially since he remembered everything else.

_Ah…but then again, you were in emotional shock and you did get caught in the aftermath of the blast. Who's to say that you didn't get hit by falling debris or shrapnel? It's entirely possible that were caught by only one explosion and don't even remember being hit in the head at all, _said the same voice from earlier.

Alister heard sniffling sounds and he glanced down at Miruko sharply. His younger brother was crying, trying not to draw attention to himself. When he noticed Alister looking at him, though, the child began to openly sob. "I thought you were dead!" he wailed. "That tank went boom and then you were gone and I couldn't find you! And when the doctor let me here you weren't moving and you wouldn't wake up!"

Instantly every thought in his head vanished to be replaced with concern and the redhead placed a hand on his brother's shoulder, eyes softening. "Hey…I'm all right now, Miruko," he said reassuringly, pulling his brother gently into his arms. "See? I'm alive and I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."

Even as he said it he felt a small stab of guilt. If everything that was happening was all a dream and not reality, he would be leaving Miruko again fairly soon and he would not get a chance to see him again.

But if it wasn't…

As much as Alister was afraid to admit it, this was beginning to sound less and less like a dream and more like reality. The more he thought about it, the more it began to make sense; everything Miruko had told him was entirely plausible and could have occurred, but whether it had actually happened had yet to be seen.

Abruptly, his head throbbed and Alister winced. All the thoughts running in his mind were beginning to overwhelm him; the combination of events going on around him, the stress from an unnamed accident, and the concussion he was nursing were certainly not helping him any.

As if on cue the woman came over to them from behind the curtain, a gentle smile on her face. "I'm sorry, sweetie, but visiting hours are up," she said, her eyes flickering as she looked at the brothers. "You're going to have to leave, honey."

Miruko sniffled, looking up at Alister hopefully for a contradiction. "Can't I stay, big brother?" he asked, gray eyes round and filled with unshed tears. "Please? I don't want to go—I want to stay here with you."

Alister felt a lump in his throat and reached out for his brother, pulling the child to him. He held boy close, not wanting to let go—he never wanted to let go of his brother ever again. If he could help it Alister would hold onto his brother until the earth stopped spinning.

"Miruko, I'll still be here when you come back," he promised at last in a gentle voice, fighting to keep the lump down. He was aware that his promise most likely would be broken if this was a dream, but he desperately hoped that this wasn't. "For now, though, you have to go."

He reluctantly released Miruko from the hug and the child sniffled, following the nurse morosely but without further argument. Alister watched them go drowsily, already falling asleep from the emotional and physical exhaustion. Something in the back of his mind warned him not to go to sleep, but the reason was too vague and Alister was simply too tired to puzzle it out. He was asleep the moment Miruko had walked out of the room.

* * *

The first night at the hospital was spent having nurses and doctors prod him awake to make sure he had no existing damage from the blast. It was also filled with half-formed images and voices that came and went, nothing ever coherent enough to make out.

The second night was slightly better, since the doctors came and went less frequently and the images seemed to be fading away.

The third night was the first night he spent getting an actual night of sleep, though it was peppered with the ghost of images and voices, of impossible places and impossible events. They were faint, though, and did not wake him up.

By the fifth night of his stay his head no longer hurt and he was able to leave the hospital with Miruko the following morning.

By the end of the week, Alister remembered nothing of the dream that had made him question reality.


	57. Reality Check: Part III

_Here's the third part to the mini-arc!_

_I'm beginning to think that someone is out to get me—yesterday I fell down the stairs AGAIN and now have two bumps that would make Alister proud. But luckily, after consuming copious amounts of Tylenol and wearing an ice pack for two days, I am able to put this up for your enjoyment. _

_Have at it!_

* * *

It wasn't necessarily home, per se, but it was out of range of the battles that raged around them and for that he was grateful.

Alister and Miruko had originally returned to where they had been living, just on the outskirts of the town on a little hill that overlooked the war-torn city. Their old house had been a part of a neighborhood that was on the hill, away from the chaos of the war going on around them. But it wasn't too long after they settled back in when they heard the rumble of approaching tanks—ones that were identified as enemies.

The two boys barely avoided getting blown to pieces as the tanks proceeded to destroy the neighborhood.

After that, Alister decided that it would be safer to head back to the building where the temporary hospital had been set up; the hospital appeared to be a no-combat zone, which meant that there was very little chance of a battle occurring in the vicinity of the place. He and Miruko managed to get there without any problems, and settled into the small apartment that they now shared with a few other orphan children and made the best of things.

As far as Alister was concerned, his initial panic after waking up three weeks ago was nothing more than disorientation from being hit in the head. He'd had no more weird dreams since he'd left the hospital, and he was more than happy to forget the nightmare in which his younger brother had been killed. Occasionally, though, his head would throb again and his arm still hadn't healed.

Miruko didn't seem to mind living in the apartment and share it with the other children (two boys and a girl); he seemed to be genuinely happy playing with both the girl and the younger of the two boys, since they were roughly his age.

The remaining boy, who was also the oldest of his siblings, hung around Alister and during the day would follow after him to help gather supplies. Alister didn't bother asking for a name, and the other boy never gave one; it was too common in these times to make a friend only to have them killed, and knowing names would only make Alister more attached to them and all the more grieved should something happen to his newfound friend.

It was during one of their supply runs that things began to unravel.

* * *

Alister frowned, looking around him cautiously as he peered out from where he and his companion were hiding. It would not be too long before the enemy would come back through here to begin looting the area, so they had no time to waste; this was, after all, the enemy's turf.

He turned to the other boy with him. "I think it's safe, but just to be sure keep your head down and stay low. If the enemy is around here, we don't want to give them any targets."

His companion nodded briefly, his blonde hair hidden beneath a pauper's cap and his facial expression grim. "That certainly would be a problem," he commented quietly, his blue eyes flickering uneasily at their surroundings.

They hesitated a moment longer before dashing from their cover and making a beeline to what had been a grocery store, slipping into the building via the broken front window. They waited a moment to catch their breath and to make certain no one had seen them before splitting up to gather supplies; they'd each come up with a list beforehand of what they would need, since they really couldn't afford to waste time.

It didn't take them too long to get what they needed into the small backpacks they'd brought along and to meet back up at the front of the store, and ten minutes after they'd arrived they were already leaving the small store and making their way back to the hospital. They were still cautious, making sure no one saw them and sticking to the shadows of fallen rubble and halfway collapsed buildings.

They were about halfway back to the hospital when they bumped into the halfway destroyed church.

Alister paused, looking in the front gate at the once whole building. A bomb had destroyed the roof and roughly half of the building, exposing the interior of the building to the elements; it seemed that the building had also caught on fire at one point, because Alister could see the scorch marks on the timber beams of the remaining part of the church's ceiling.

His companion, however, seemed to be focused on something else entirely. "Does that kid live here?" he asked in that same low tone, conscious of the fact that they were still in enemy territory.

Alister's gray eyes looked back at the other boy. He was currently pointing inside the church, and Alister followed the direction of his friend's finger until his eyes locked onto something moving within the rubble.

The child that they were looking at was a very young boy, probably no older than Alister. Though they could not entirely see him from a distance, they could discern a few details: a once-white jacket, a blue shirt beneath it, and brown hair that was sticking up in the weirdest way…there was something oddly familiar about that boy…as if he'd seen him before…where had—?

His head abruptly exploded.

Alister let out a muffled groan, clutching his head and sinking to his knees. Beside him, he heard his companion asking in concern if something was wrong, but Alister could barely hear him it because his head was pounding and throbbing and _someone make it go away, it hurts why is does it hurt this bad…?_

And then suddenly Alister was no longer standing in front of the broken church next to a rubble crowded street, he was now falling and falling and…

* * *

…_ and it was wet. Why was it wet? Was it raining…yes, he could feel the raindrops splash against his face as he fell and…he was clutching some sort of cloth. Why was he holding it? It was odd, because there was a reason he was holding onto this…he was trying to get it to someone…_

_He hit something metal and cold and wet, and his head exploded into fiery pain as the breath was knocked from his lungs. He gasped in pain as his arm buckled beneath him, snapping like a twig before he bounced off of whatever metal thing he had landed on and onto the ground with a jarring impact. That hurt worse than the original impact because it was concrete and he landed on his wounded arm and hit his head again._

_He lay in the rain, cold water washing over him while he lay there hurt and wet and aching, and then he could hear someone screaming his name and he tried to find them in the sudden sea of faces. But he couldn't, and then everything was black and he was falling—_

* * *

"Alister! Alister! Please, wake up!"

Miruko's scared voice sounded far away and fuzzy, but it was there nonetheless and he opened his eyes. His vision spun in dizzying waves and everything around him seemed to rock and sway. He felt bile in his throat, knew what was about to happen, and managed to get out a hoarse, "Watch out, Miruko."

Alister stumbled out of bed and past Miruko to the nearest waste bin, where he promptly threw up. He heaved a few seconds before relaxing, wiping his mouth with a nearby rag before throwing it into the trash bin. He rose to his feet slowly, his head pounding and throbbing, but the pain drove him back to the floor and he curled up miserably, feeling absolutely ill.

Someone's hand came to rest on his shoulder, and a familiar woman's voice asked in concern, "Honey, you okay?"

Abruptly, the sharp smell of rubbing alcohol filled his senses and he realized where he was: the hospital. "My head…" he managed weakly, and someone pulled him into their arms and carried him back to the bed.

"I thought as much," said the nurse gently as she lay him on the mattress, pulling the covers over him. "Your friend brought you back here and once he told me what happened I knew something was wrong. Head trauma's a tricky thing," she said, shaking her head.

Alister felt a small amount of concern flare through him. "What happened to him?"

"He told me to tell you he was back with his siblings at the apartment, right after he got your brother and brought him here," said the woman kindly, reaching for a metal bowl with a washcloth in it. She draped the cloth over his forehead before she said softly, "You didn't have any bumps or obvious wounds, but we'll still keep you here for overnight observation. For now, you should try and sleep."

Miruko's small hand grasped his brother's. "I'll stay right here, big brother. The nurse let me stay this time," he said with a watery smile, looking close to tears again.

In spite of the pain his head was in, Alister grinned and said quietly, "That's good to know. Don't you worry, Miruko…I'll be fine in the morning."

Miruko managed a bright smile, setting something next to Alister's other arm. "And Dyna Dude will protect us both!" he declared, keeping his voice down.

The redhead's smile broadened, but he said nothing further as he closed his eyes and dropped into a dazed half-slumber.

There was really only one question he had on his mind: what was really going on?

As he dropped off into deeper sleep Alister realized that he would need to examine the dreams he'd had weeks before, because he was absolutely certain that his headache had something to do with them.

When he fell asleep, his dreams were not peaceful.


	58. Reality Check: Part IV

_Part four is here, just for you!_

_I haven't fallen down since the last update, which makes me feel slightly better about being late with the chapters. As a head's up, this one's longer than the other parts of the arc…believe me, you'll thank me for it later. Hopefully it'll clear up all the questions everyone had :D_

_"Homecoming" is referenced in here, so for those who haven't read that oneshot you need to go fill yourselves in._

* * *

_It was raining. He could feel the water hitting his skin but couldn't feel the moisture from the water; it was almost as if his skin had become impermeable to the falling droplets. _

_He heard the group of children before he saw them, and gray eyes swiveled around him searchingly before landing on them. _

_There were only four of them, siblings no doubt: two boys, two girls, and all under the age of ten, from the looks of it. They were congregated on the sidewalk nearby a rather tall tree; to the right of the tree was the road, and the car they'd come in—a mini-van with an empty bicycle rack on its roof—was parked to the left with no sign of the parents._

_He moved closer, wondering what was interesting the children, before he heard a loud crack. He ducked instinctively, looking for a gun, before he realized that it came from the tree the children were beneath, and then suddenly he knew that someone was in the tree and they were falling. _

_The figure crashed on top of the mini-van with enough force to possibly kill the person. There was an oddly explosive crack, one that was similar to the branch breaking, and he heard the gasp of the person who'd fallen before they tumbled off the roof and onto the cold asphalt of the road. The figure lay where they'd fallen on their side, unmoving and unconscious—if not dead._

_The children seemed to be in shock, wide eyed and afraid; it had all happened so fast they hadn't had time to scream. But then he heard a voice calling his name in panic and turned in time to see someone run past him, running for the figure that was unmoving in the road…but he was here. Who was that person talking to?_

_For that matter, who had fallen from the tree?_

_He tried to go closer, but found that his feet would not move and then everything was dark again._

* * *

Alister's eyes snapped open and he sat up in bed, feeling more exhausted than refreshed.

Since his arrival at the hospital five days ago the headaches had been almost regular, and though they were nowhere near debilitating as the one that had brought him back here they were enough to keep him in bed, especially since no one knew what was causing them.

It seemed that his headaches were being triggered by random objects he would look at; just the other morning his eyes had landed on a newspaper that claimed in bold headlines that a cruise liner had sunk and his head had nearly torn in two. Then there had been the nun he'd seen crossing the street, and before that had been a little plastic cat Miruko had found that had vivid green eyes, and before that it was a piece of aquamarine glass that glowed in the sunlight and gave it an almost ethereal look.

It was worse when he slept.

His dreams were filled with the low buzzing murmur of voices and plagued with images from battles he'd never fought, of places he'd never been, and of people he'd never met. Nothing was ever coherent enough to make out, and whenever he tried to see the people's faces everything would go black and he'd wake up.

Alister was convinced that everything that was happening was connected, because he felt as if each of those objects had something in common, but nothing so far had presented itself to him. He could pull everything he wanted together and put into shape, but if something was preventing him from learning the truth his task was going to be even more difficult.

If only he could remember what he'd dreamed about when he'd woken up here the first time! That would certainly help clear his head and fit the pieces of the puzzle into place, Alister was almost certain of it. But he could no more remember that then remember his first moments of life.

Alister had never been the type to quit, however, and he _would _figure this out.

He felt a smile appear on his face when he saw Miruko sitting in the nearby chair, playing as quietly as he could with Dyna Dude and a couple other toys that Alister had found for him on his excursions. The past few days had probably been frightening for his younger brother, and Alister felt a twinge of guilt for what he was putting Miruko through.

"Hey," Alister said, a warm smile appearing on his face.

Miruko jumped, not realizing that his older brother was awake. He looked at the bed with startled gray eyes, but then the look vanished and a grin split the child's face. "Alister! You're up!" he cried gleefully, scrambling up onto the bed to hug him. "Are you feeling any better?"

Alister returned the hug, ruffling his brother's hair as he pulled away. "'Fraid not, kiddo," he remarked, still able to feel the remnants of a headache from the dream; whenever he dreamed he would wake up with a small headache, but he could no more control when the dreams came and went than he could control the weather.

Miruko's eyes saddened. "I wish your head would get all better," he said with a pout, folding his small arms across his chest.

The older redhead chuckled and ruffled his brother's hair again. "I wish it would too," he said, his smile fading for a moment. "Don't worry, Miruko. I'll get better soon enough and then we'll be on our way again."

The boy seemed to cheer up immensely after that statement, because the sad look vanished entirely. He said hopefully, "Do we get to go with our friends, Alister?"

Alister frowned. "What do you mean?" he inquired, feeling a faint throbbing begin inside his head.

"Our friends that were living with us. They left a couple of days ago to get on a boat to…to…I don't remember," said Miruko with a thoughtful expression. "They had to leave 'cause their aunt and uncle wanted them to come live at their house."

Alister felt it again, and there was no mistaking that throbbing sensation. He inwardly groaned—not another headache, not this early. How had this one been triggered? He hadn't done anything…oh.

Oh.

Alister ignored the increasing throbbing of his skull, slipping the covers off of him to get out of bed. His bare feet contacted the linoleum floor and he padded softly across to the wastebasket nearest him, fishing out the newspaper that he had thrown away a couple of days ago.

"Miruko, when did they leave?" he asked, having found what he was looking for.

"The morning after you were brought here. Their big brother didn't really wanna go, but the soldiers insisted that they go ahead and leave," said Miruko, his tone melancholy as he remembered his lost playmates.

Alister glanced at the front page of the paper and found immediately what he was looking for: "Prominent Cruise Liner Mysteriously Sinks!" was written in bold black lettering, but Alister did not read the rest of the article because then something had clicked and his breath caught.

Two pieces of the puzzle had fit together.

The boy and his siblings were connected to the ship, not just because they had possibly been on it but because the facts related to what he had seen in his dreams. He couldn't say exactly how they related, but they did and he was now one step closer to figuring everything out.

"Alister? You okay?" asked Miruko, noticing distant look on the older redhead's face.

"Yeah…Yeah, I'm fine," Alister said distractedly, not entirely paying attention to Miruko at the moment. This was a lead that could very well lead him to the answer he had been looking for, and he could not quit thinking about it now since this was probably the only chance he was going to get.

But after ten minutes of puzzling over the two bits of information Alister still had nothing to go on, his frustration building and his head pounding. Miruko, who had been once again playing while Alister had been thinking, set his toys down on the bed and said in a stage whisper, "I have to go to the bathroom."

Alister blinked, coming out of his thoughts to stare at the younger child with exasperated amusement. "Is that all? I thought it was something important," he teased, reaching over to ruffle his brother's hair. "Don't worry about me, kiddo. I'm obviously not going anywhere."

Miruko nodded enthusiastically, his countenance brightening as he set Dyna Dude onto Alister's bedside table. "You keep Alister safe from the bad men while I'm gone," he ordered the toy seriously. "I'll be right back."

Alister shook his head as he watched his smaller brother walk down the aisle and out the double door entryway, passing by a couple of people coming into the room. His smile soon faded, however, as Alister began to examine what little information he had once more. He had to get to the bottom of this; Alister could not spend the rest of his life subjecting to the whims of a headache that was triggered by almost anything, and if he could just find that trigger he would be able to avoid it entirely.

While he was thinking his gaze was wandering around the room and out the window restlessly, never landing on any one thing as he continued to try and unlock the puzzle in his mind. Alister was about to give up again when his eyes landed on something outside of his window.

His breath caught again as Alister stared at the nun crossing the street.

Why was it that a nun could trigger one of those painful headaches? What connection did she have with his confused dreams? He tried to connect her to the cruise ship but found that there wasn't really a way he could…and yet Alister was positive that they were all linked somehow.

Suddenly his thoughts locked onto the image of a halfway destroyed church and the first instance of his headaches. There had been a boy living in that building, hadn't there? Alister had not ever met the boy face to face, so why had he—?

But Alister didn't even get to finish that thought because a voice in his mind murmured quietly, _Because you didn't see him first. Your friend—the boy who was with you—saw him long before you did; he didn't even look at the church. He found that boy all too quickly…that's how they're connected. _

The voice hadn't even finished speaking before Alister felt a certain conviction form in his gut. He couldn't explain it if someone asked for his reasoning, but he accepted the thought without any further question because he knew it was the truth: somehow, in some way, both of the boys were connected.

His head throbbed now with a vengeance, but Alister ignored it because he was on the verge of figuring everything out…all he needed was just one more hint, just one more clue…

And it wasn't coming.

Alister growled in frustration, trying to grab the thoughts that were already beginning to slip away. He was so close! He could not just lose everything now!

But what could he do? Alister had run out of options and events…and really, all it could be was paranoia. He did live in a warzone, after all, and it did eventually get to people.

He sighed, the frustration slipping away as his gray eyes landed on Dyna Dude. He reached out for it, picking up the charred toy and looking at it sadly. "If this was you, you would have put that one last piece of the puzzle together. That one clue that everyone missed would have been something you'd found for yourself," he said, a rueful smirk forming.

And then, without warning, the last piece of the puzzle clicked into place.

There was no more confusion—not anymore.

"Alister?"

Miruko was back, frowning in puzzlement at the blank expression on Alister's face. The older redhead looked at his brother and felt a heavy weight settle on his chest. Alister didn't want to say it, because if he did then it would change everything. It would mean that he would lose his brother again.

But he had to.

"You had Dyna Dude with you when you jumped off the tank and when it exploded, didn't you?" he asked, fighting desperately to keep his voice calm.

Miruko—his sweet, innocent little brother—looked back up at him and nodded. "Yeah! He protected me from the bad men!" he proclaimed.

Alister struggled mightily with himself for a moment. _Don't do it…don't do it, you'll lose him again…_

_But you know that this is the way it's supposed to be. You have to say it._

"Miruko, if you had Dyna Dude with you when you fell off the tank he shouldn't be all broken and burned. He should be whole...you never got off the tank to begin with," Alister said in a broken whisper, gesturing mutely to the charred and broken toy.

His brother said nothing.

Alister hesitated for one more minute before he said,"None of this was real, was it?"

The words had no sooner left his mouth when everything around him faded away. He was no longer lying on a bed in a temporary hospital…he wasn't in a hospital at all, come to think of it. He was now standing in a white void with nothing around him.

Except for Miruko, who was watching his brother with a sad smile.

"You finally figured it out," said the child softly. "I was beginning to worry that you wouldn't. But then, you're my big brother—you can do anything."

"Miruko…"

His voice was different now. He wasn't a boy of eleven anymore; he was a twenty year old man who wore dark trench coats, short tank tops, and who rode motorcycles.

Alister was who he was supposed to be.

The child continued to smile. "Do you remember what happened, big brother?"

Alister hesitated, the details still murky in his mind. "Sort of. I'm still unsure of a few things," he said, thinking about his two friends. He could remember almost everything, save for their names and their faces.

"You just dreamed about it this morning," Miruko said encouragingly, and then Alister noticed the teddy bear in his brother's arms that had replaced Dyna Dude.

The details sprang into place almost instantly. "The children…one of the boys threw up his sister's bear in the tree and it got stuck. I was grocery shopping with…with one of my friends and saw what happened. I said I would go get the bear, because it was raining and he could have fallen but…I fell," he said, feeling mixed emotions as he remembered it.

"When you fell, you hit your head really really hard," Miruko explained, gray eyes worried. "Before you fell though, you were thinking about something else: you were wondering what would have happened if I had lived instead of died."

Alister's breath hitched. "I remember that…the day I fell was the anniversary of the day you…when you…"

He couldn't swallow the lump in his throat.

Miruko confirmed Alister's unfinished sentence with a sad smile. "Even going up the tree you were thinking about what you could have done to stop me from dying, so when you fell and hit your head…that was all it took."

"When I woke up I had trouble remembering the present," Alister said then, remembering his initial panic. "I must have hit my head hard enough to cause some form of amnesia, but—"

"It didn't work because your subconscious knew better," Miruko said, and suddenly he realized what his little brother was talking about: the three children in the apartment, the boy in the church, the nun, the aquamarine glass, the small plastic cat, the newspaper, Dyna Dude…

Raphael, Valon, DOOM, Misa, and Miruko's death.

"All of them were linked to the present," Alister said bitterly, feeling only slightly pleased that he now could remember everything. "My subconscious kept trying to give me hints so I would figure it out."

"And you did!" said Miruko warmly, his eyes softening as he stared back at his older brother. "I didn't lose faith that you would."

The older redhead remained silent for a moment, turning the new information he'd gotten over and examining it quietly. "So…what you're saying is that my mind created some sort of clichéd movie plot twist because I got hit too hard in the head?" he said at last, his voice harsh.

Miruko nodded, his eyes sympathetic.

Alister paused before letting out a dark chuckle. "Head trauma's a tricky thing," he said, echoing the nurse's words. He blinked as a strange smell filled the air around him, and then he noticed that darkness was beginning to creep up on them. He looked to Miruko for an answer.

"You need to go back, Alister," said Miruko quietly, looking around at his surroundings. "You don't belong trapped in your memories. You need to live beyond them."

Alister felt the lump in his throat return. "But…but you're not dead here," he said, his voice pitiful sounding to his ears.

Miruko smiled sadly again. "You have to wake up now, Alister. One day…one day we'll see each other again, but for now this is what's supposed to happen," the child said in a broken voice, looking as if he was going to burst into tears.

The darkness was creeping closer now, but Alister hardly minded it because he had just figured out something important. When he had regained his memories, Alister had only assumed that this Miruko was just a part of the confused mess his mind had generated. As the conversation had progressed, though, he noticed a marked difference between the Miruko he'd been with this whole time and the one he was talking to now.

The child's last sentence confirmed that thought.

This was the real Miruko.

He didn't know how it happened, but when he blinked again Alister was holding his little brother tightly in his arms. "When you said you'd never left me, you weren't kidding," he said softly, never wanting to let go of his brother.

"I told you I was watching out for you, didn't I?" Miruko replied, his voice muffled by Alister's shoulder.

They said nothing else after that, not needing to say anything more; the unspoken words were expressed in that one hug. They didn't break apart, even when the darkness completely surrounded them and they couldn't see each other anymore.

Alister held onto Miruko long after the darkness eclipsed his senses.


	59. Reality Check: Part V

_Here's the final part to Alister's story arc!_

_Thank you, fellow reader, for sticking with me this far; writing this was a lot more difficult than anticipated, because I had to fit everything together in five parts and make sure that everything made sense (and then doing all of that with a concussion), and I'm glad you didn't get scared off by it. Again, big "THANK YOU!" to Alister's Girlfriend for giving me the initial plot bunny._

_Now I think I can go ahead and say it (I was deliberately leaving it out in fear of spoiling the surprise): this is post-DOOM, and reviews are still worth more than gold._

* * *

He was _really_ beginning to hate that smell.

As awareness slowly washed over him, he decided that he didn't care how badly his injuries would ever get—nothing on this earth would ever get him to use rubbing alcohol ever again. Even if it was a paper cut he wouldn't use it, not even when gangrene set in and took his finger off.

His head, which had blissfully not ached at all while he had floated in the darkness, throbbed once again and his arm also hurt terribly. He was not pleased about that development, especially since he had spent so much time thinking about nothing and he rather liked that idea.

He couldn't feel his brother hugging him anymore, and an ache settled on his chest. He had lost his brother…again…and that thought alone hurt more than his physical injuries did. True, he was glad in a way that his concussion induced dream had not been true, but it still hurt to think about when he realized that Miruko was still dead.

For just a minute he was sorely tempted to search inside himself for that place where Miruko was; he wanted to stay with his brother. To be yanked away from him again had hurt him more than words could express…no one would have to realize that he had almost been conscious, and it would be so easy to do.

At the same moment he gently shook the thought away. He could not truly stay with Miruko…not until the day he died would he ever be able to stay with his younger brother. To stay unconscious meant that he would be chasing after an illusion. That was really nothing more than a show of cowardice—he would be hiding from the hard reality in his own world.

_I told you I was watching out for you, didn't I?_

His little brother's last words suddenly floated to the surface of his mind. Those words brought him some comfort, easing up the tight knot of grief in his chest and warming the aching void where the child had used to be. Miruko was still watching him—even now, even after DOOM had ended and the whole Orichalcos fiasco had been dealt with. The ache wouldn't ever entirely go away; it was a bit more bearable when he knew that Miruko was acting as a sort of guardian angel.

He wasn't really paying attention to what could possibly be around him at the moment—he already knew he was in a hospital, thank you very much—but a familiar voice drifted into his hearing and that made him pay attention. A moment later, he inwardly grinned as he identified the owner of the voice.

No one could forget that accent, not even if they tried.

"…all m' bloody fault! If I'd gotten out faster instead o' goofin' off in the store 'e wouldn' 'ave fallen!"

"Valon, you can't blame yourself for what Alister did. You weren't up in the tree, and you certainly didn't shove him out of it," a deep and gruff voice said quietly, another welcome familiarity. He opened his eyes slowly, remembering all too clearly what had happened the last time he had woken up in a hospital.

The bed he was lying on was propped into a semi-sitting position, not entirely flat. The lights in the room had been considerably dimmed, probably because Raphael had realized what would happen if his wounded companion woke up in a too-bright room. His vision was blurry at first, but after blinking a few times it cleared enough to focus on his surroundings. He thought about moving his head but decided against it when it throbbed. Instead he used his periphery vision to look around, his gray eyes landing on his arm. There was a thick cast on it, which explained why it hadn't healed in his dream: in reality, it had broken.

Alister's wandering gaze then went to the two figures near his bed.

Raphael was sitting in a nearby chair, an open book in his hands; judging from what he could see, Alister knew that his elder friend had probably come here straight from work once he'd gotten a call from the hospital. The older biker had not gotten too far into the book, most likely too worried about his injured comrade to focus on the pages, and he looked almost worn out from the stress.

Valon was standing up and, if his suspicions were correct, seemed to have been pacing the room impatiently as he waited for Alister to wake up. Even as he watched, the boy threw his hands in the air in visible distress. "Why didn' 'e jus' let things be and let someone else get the bear?" he asked irritably, his cerulean eyes betraying his real thoughts. His face was pale, probably from the shock of what had happened earlier.

Raphael sighed, looking over at the teenager with a unreadable expression. "You and I both know the answer to that—Alister's never been one to ignore a child, especially an unhappy one," he replied, shutting his book and setting it on the nearby table.

Valon also sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I know tha'!" he exclaimed, obviously trying not to yell. "But still! 'e coulda waited f'r me t' get out b'fore climbin' up there! Tha' way, I coulda gone instead 'n' get the bear! 'e's 'fraid o' 'eights and I coulda gotten it back to the kid, lickety split!"

Alister felt a frown mar his features as he registered Valon's words. The Australian was trying to shoulder the blame for an honest accident. He wasn't entirely sure he liked that idea, and as soon as his head quit throbbing enough to focus Alister would reassure the teen that he was not at fault.

"He couldn't have known that the branch was going to break underneath his foot, Valon," Raphael responded wearily. "I'm sure that when Alister woke up this morning he didn't think that this was going to happen. Nobody ever can predict stuff like this—that's why they're called accidents."

"Tha's another thing! Why couldn' 'e 'ave gotten a ladder 'r somethin'? No, 'e 'as to climb up the bloody tree and pretend 'e's a monkey!" said Valon, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation.

Alister rolled his eyes at the boy's comment and sat up straighter, hissing softly as his broken arm flared briefly in pain.

The reaction was immediate.

Both of the other bikers, who had obviously heard Alister, directed their attention at the bed. The previously troubled expression on Raphael's face disappeared, and Valon now looked startled. They both seemed relieved that he was awake.

The likelihood was high that Alister would never tell either Raphael or Valon about what he had seen and done while he had been unconscious. Right now, to tell them all about it would be like rubbing salt in the wound; everything was still too raw and tender, and he simply couldn't find a way to explain it to them.

Maybe he would tell them later, Alister amended as he stared at their mixed expressions. They were, after all, his only friends. They deserved an explanation, and they would get one—eventually.

For now, though, it was time he entered the conversation.

Alister met their gazes wordlessly for a moment, even going so far as to turn his aching head so he could look at both of them fully. His own face gave nothing away of his true thoughts; it was almost as if he had dozed off on the sofa. There was nothing in his expression that would suggest that Alister had been trapped in his own memories, and he didn't need a mirror to confirm that thought.

Nonetheless, Alister allowed the barest hint of amusement into his voice when he said, "I sincerely hope you're not suggesting that I'm fat, Valon."


	60. Happy Independence Day!

_I would post this up tomorrow, but then I realized everyone is going to be too busy to read FanFiction during the holiday (myself included—we have a birthday in my family to celebrate) so I'm posting it semi-early._

_Post DOOM, takes place sometime after the events in Alister's story arc, and it references "Oops." Happy Fourth of July, everyone!_

_

* * *

_

"_No."_

"Aw c'mon fellas, you 'aven' even 'eard me out—"

"No."

"But Raph—"

"No."

"Please—"

"No with all my heart."

"Look, i's simple. I'll launch all the fireworks in an empty parkin' lot. Tha' way, I can' possibly blow anyone or anythin' up!"

"Right. Because the idea of you being alone with fireworks in the middle of an abandoned parking lot is _very_ reassuring."

"I won't be alone, Alister! Marik 'n' Shizuka are gonna be with me!"

"Yeah, about that. Jounouchi called earlier today—he says that under no circumstances are you allowed to launch fireworks around his sister."

"Wha—when did 'e say that, Raph?"

"Right after he overheard you talking about it with Shizuka over the phone. He has made it exceptionally clear that Shizuka won't be allowed anywhere near you, fireworks, or any combination thereof."

"…Well, a' least Marik's gonna be there."

"Valon, I think you're missing one hugely major point."

"Oh? And what would tha' be, Alister?"

The redhead gestured out the window with his good arm. "It's too wet to launch fireworks anywhere," he said flatly.

Valon blinked, frowning at the rain falling outside the window. "Oh. I forgot 'bout tha'."

Raphael sighed with a mixture of weariness and relief. "It's probably for the best," he commented. "I enjoy fireworks, don't get me wrong. But usually when _we_ try to launch them…well…"

"We like having hair and eyebrows, thank you very much," Alister cut in, a scowl on his face. "Last time it took a month and a half to get my hair back to normal, and I would much prefer not to repeat the experience."

The Australian folded his arms, frowning. "But we can' celebrate without fireworks," he said stubbornly. "It wouldn' be Fourth o' July without 'em."

"There have been plenty of cancelled firework shows before. We'll manage," said Alister curtly.

Valon scowled, glaring at his older companions before a sly look appeared on his face. It went largely unnoticed, mostly because the look was gone before it arrived; it had been replaced with a wounded one.

"Tha's okay. I mean, I didn' get to see fireworks when I was younger and I don' get to see fireworks all tha' often now…maybe there'll be some on New Year's Eve if they don' get cancelled too…" he began, his cerulean eyes rounding and a dejected expression filling his features.

Raphael and Alister were not fooled in the slightest.

"The answer is still no, Valon," Raphael said firmly. "Nothing you say or do is going to change our minds."

* * *

Both Raphael and Alister had not really wanted to launch fireworks at all, considering their past history with them, and they had hoped that the wet ground would be a strong deterrent to the idea. They had not counted on the rain letting up for the day, not had they thought that the teenager would build an impromptu wooden platform to avoid the still-damp ground and launch fireworks from.

They also had not realized that Valon had more than one trick up his sleeve.

There had been several small incidents around the house leading up to their current location, such as colorfully loud flyers advertising fireworks in the park taped to the doors of the rooms (Alister bluntly shot that idea down when he found out that the park in question was across the street from where he had fallen a week ago) and party poppers that seemed to go off at random times of the day—usually because Valon had rigged them to go off when someone opened the cabinet doors.

The ultimately convincing argument came that morning, when Valon had disappeared on a self-proclaimed Dollar Store raid and then reappeared an hour later with twelve plastic bags filled with glow sticks.

_"What on earth, Valon?" Raphael asked, starting to laugh with disbelief. Misa meowed, batting at one of the bags that the teenager had set on the ground curiously._

_"They were 'avin' a sale on these t'day, jus' because it was a 'oliday!" Valon said cheerfully, setting the rest of the bags down in a pile._

_"So I noticed. What, exactly, do you plan on doing with all of those glow sticks?" the older blonde inquired, raising his eyebrow expectantly at the Australian. Alister, who had heard Raphael laugh, came to the room and eyed the bags with a raised eyebrow. He looked over at Valon wordlessly, waiting for the explanation._

_The brunette looked up at the burly man, a cheeky grin in place. "See, the way I figure it 's'like this: 'm gonna watch the fireworks on the computer, where rain can' affect it and you fellas can' get blown up. Then I'm gonna tape all these glow sticks to my ceiling 'n' pretend that they're fireworks too," he announced, holding up the bags with enthusiasm._

_Raphael and Alister looked at each other guiltily._

And that was how the three of them found themselves standing in the middle of an empty parking lot that night, the two older ones watching in resignation as Valon set up the firecrackers with unbridled joy.

…They both made a mental note to hide Valon's wallet next time a holiday that involved fireworks came up.

Even though Valon had explained that Raphael and Alister would be there Shizuka had not been able to make it, since she and her mother had left earlier in the day to spend the holiday with some of their family friends. Marik had not been able to tag along for their expedition to the parking lot either; though he claimed that he needed to help his sister move some heavy artifacts at the museum with Rishid, Alister and Raphael knew how to recognize a cop-out—Marik had heard about their previous history with the explosives.

Personally, they didn't blame him for making himself scarce.

But much to their surprise, Valon's meager fireworks display actually went off without a hitch; the firecrackers shot up into the sky like they were supposed to and exploded in dazzling displays of color, though they were not quite as large as ones found in a park. It was still a pleasant thing to watch, despite the overcast weather and the imminent threat of rain.

Valon looked over at them as he set up a couple of the larger fireworks. "See? I told you fellas that there wasn' anythin' t' worry about," he said with a satisfied grin.

Raphael shrugged, though the amusement on his face was clearly visible. "Better safe than sorry, given our track record with these things," he replied.

The corner of Alister's mouth twitched. "Third time's the charm," he commented wryly, idly rubbing at the cast on his arm. His wrist had stopped aching a while ago, but it was plagued by a distinct itching sensation that honestly was beginning to drive him crazy.

Raphael smirked but said nothing. It was nice to celebrate a normal Fourth of July without anything going wrong, he thought to himself. After all, no one really liked being chased by flying explosives, especially if it meant having anything on their bodies catch fire. However—

"ACK!"

Raphael blinked, coming out of his thoughts to look where Valon was standing. The wooden platform had somehow managed to catch fire—despite all the water on the ground—in the time that the elder biker had not been looking, and the remaining fireworks were caught in the middle of the blaze.

"Run f'r it, fellas! They're gonna blow!" Valon yelped in alarm, running past them and making a beeline to the nearest refuge from the firecrackers.

—It wouldn't be normal for them if something_ didn't_ go wrong with the fireworks.

The older bikers exchanged resigned looks that said louder than words, "Here we go again," before quickly following after their youngest companion, just as the first of the fireworks spat madly past them.


	61. Chaos in the Kitchen

_This was inspired by, believe it or not, sticking a pizza into the oven._

_Post-DOOM, after Alister's story arc (I keep mentioning that because Alister did break his arm and he'll have a cast on for a while), and if you haven't already vote on my poll. This is the last week it's up and I'll be taking it down this Sunday._

* * *

"I'm 'uuuungry," Valon whined miserably, slumping on the table and peering up at Alister hopefully from beneath his fluffy bangs. "Can I 'ave some o' your soup?"

Alister didn't even look up. "I am not your personal chef, Valon," he commented flatly as he continued to stir the ramen in the pot. "If you want food, either go out and order it or make your own meal."

"But we don' 'ave any sandwich makin's, I don' wanna go out righ' now and get anythin', and Raph banned me from cookin' without supervision!" the teenager protested, lifting his head and looking up at the older biker.

"Quit complaining, Valon. I'm in the kitchen, aren't I? I believe that this is what can be termed as supervision. This, therefore, means you can cook," the redhead replied brusquely, taking the pot off the stove and setting it on an unused burner. He looked over at Valon at last and said, "At some point you're going to have to learn how to make something without burning the house down."

Valon brightened and leapt to his feet, already rummaging through the cabinet for a saucepan. "Excellent! Now, wha' should I make…?"

"Hold it. There are some guidelines I'm installing here," said Alister immediately, knowing perfectly well how easy it was to have something go wrong. "You're only allowed to make something with noodles, for starters."

"Wait a minute! Wha' if I don' wanna eat ramen?" Valon asked indignantly, poking head out of the pantry. "We 'ave some of that pizza in the freezer, don' we?"

"I never said you had to eat ramen; you can make spaghetti for all I care. However, I do believe Raphael banned you from using the oven after what happened last time you used it," Alister said as he poured the packet of broth powder into the still steaming pot of noodles he had cooked earlier. "Besides, there isn't a way on earth you can set fire to spaghetti while cooking it."

"'ow many' times do I 'ave t' say tha' what 'appened to the oven wasn' my fault? It was an accident!" Valon snapped indignantly.

"You set the timer for fifteen hours instead of minutes, which resulted in the chicken inside it bursting into flame, exploding, and ruining that particular oven."

"…I still fail t' see 'ow tha' was my fault!"

Alister shot him an annoyed look. "Bottom line: you're making a meal with noodles only. You don't like it, you can go hungry."

The Australian mumbled darkly under his breath but got out a package of spaghetti nonetheless.

"Fill your saucepan halfway with water and then set it on the stove," said Alister, using his good arm to pour the ramen into a bowl and then carrying it to the table. "I'm coming right back, so don't go anywhere."

Alister set the steaming bowl on the table and returned, noting with faint surprise that Valon had done what he had asked and was waiting patiently by the stove; the burner wasn't even turned on. "All right, now turn on the stove and wait until the water starts boiling. Don't take your eyes off the pot for a minute—the minute you see bubbles let me know," he continued.

Valon nodded obediently, his eyes turning to the stove and watching the pan intently. Alister felt even more surprised by that as he returned to his bowl of ramen on the table.

His younger friend was being remarkably compliant, he noted thoughtfully. But then again, Valon seemed to be too hungry to argue with the one who was helping him make his lunch. The teenager rarely cooked anything; the Australian seemed to be a magnet for trouble and any meals he attempted to make ended up either on fire or exploding.

In other words, Raphael's "anti-Valon in the kitchen cooking alone" campaign was completely justifiable.

He heard Valon rummaging in the fridge, presumably looking for a soda to drink; the Australian loved drinking the beverage, since it was one of the few types of sugar that both Raphael and Alister knew would not cause their younger friend to start bouncing off the walls and therefore kept in stock.

After eyeing the ramen he decided he would let the soup cool and Alister went back over to check on Valon's progress, slightly impressed that the brunette had not managed to blow anything up. The blue eyed teen looked over at him and grinned. "The water's bubbling! Now what do I do?"

Alister eyed the water critically for a moment, decided that it was bubbling after all, and said, "Now we get out a handful of noodles and break them in half. Like this," he continued, getting a handful of the noodles and handing them to Valon since he couldn't use both of his hands (the cast was quite debilitating).

The boy gripped the noodles and looked at them with a quizzical look. "Like this?" he asked, and before Valon had even bent the bundle Alister realized the boy was gripping it too hard.

"Wait Valon! Don't—!"

And that was when the kitchen erupted into chaos.

The raw spaghetti crackled and pieces flew through the air, landing almost everywhere. At the same moment smoke filled their vision and began billowing from the microwave, and an ominous thumping began emanating from the counter where the microwave sat.

Wait. Why was the _microwave _having issues?

"Valon, what did you _do!__?_" Alister yelled, reaching for the fire extinguisher in panic.

* * *

Raphael stared at the kitchen in complete shock. "Who started a war in here?" he asked at last, turning to a rather frazzled looking Alister.

The slender young man was covered in pieces of raw spaghetti and what appeared to be spaghetti sauce; he also smelled suspiciously like smoke and his cast looked as if it might have caught on fire at one point. "I tried to teach Valon how to make spaghetti," the redhead said irritably. "Clearly it didn't go according to plan."

"…Why, pray tell, was _Valon _trying to _cook_?"

"I was supervising him, don't get me wrong; I thought it would be nice if he knew how to at least boil water without blowing up anything. I know better than to let him cook by himself, but I took my eyes off of him for two minutes and then everything fell apart," Alister explained, a hint of a defensive tone in his voice.

Raphael sighed tiredly. "It always happens like that," he said in resignation. "There's no point in holding it against you. How did it happen this time?"

Alister gestured to the blackened countertop where the microwave had previously sat (the device in question had literally been tossed out the backdoor after he realized that its contents were on fire and a small explosion was imminent). "Valon got out spaghetti sauce and tried to heat it in one of our metal bowls and accidentally left a metal spoon in the bowl—because he didn't know that metal in the microwave is bad news. Then when we were dealing with the microwave disaster we forgot about the pan on the stove and the water boiled over."

The older blonde honestly felt his mouth drop open.

Alister looked at where the microwave had once been sitting. "Valon has already gone out to find a new microwave, though I don't think he'll buy it without us there. And he's been double banned from the kitchen until further notice."

Raphael stared wordlessly at the scorched countertop as well before he shook his head and said, "He's a weapon of mass destruction. God help us all if Valon ever has to cook again."


	62. Of Misa And Celery

_My cat had a huge part in this particular shot, since she gave me the plot bunny after she…well, you'll see soon enough how my cat inspired this. _

_Post-DOOM, Alister still has a broken arm (obligatory reminder), and if you want to you can go check out my profile—I gave it another makeover, including a name for my news section!_

* * *

"Do you 'ave any cel'ry?"

Raphael, who had been fixing up the spot that Valon had inadvertently charbroiled with the spaghetti fiasco last week, turned to look at the brunette with a confused expression. "Celery?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Yup! I've got the munchies," responded Valon cheerfully, already rummaging through the refrigerator. The boy was clad in a tank top and a pair of shorts, probably because of the hot weather outside. "'N' since we've got no p'tato chips, I figured I'd eat 'ealthy."

"…But you hate celery."

"Never 'urts to try out new stuff, right?" Valon replied as he got out a stalk of the celery, peering over the refrigerator to give his baffled companion a grin. "'Sides…I'm not about t' munch on broc'li. I 'ave my standards, y'know."

Before Raphael could form a proper response the boy was already out of the kitchen and halfway up the stairs with his prize. The blonde wondered if he should be moderately concerned that Valon had freely chosen to eat a vegetable, but then dismissed the idea after a moment's pause.

Besides, it was celery. It wasn't like it was some sugary substance that would most likely turn the Australian into a hyperactive ball of energy. What on earth could Valon possibly do with one stalk of celery?

* * *

_CRASH!_

"AAAGHH!"

_BANG!_

"MISA, YOU CRAZY CAT! LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Alister felt his eye twitch in annoyance, and he looked away from the television to glare up at the ceiling, where Valon presumably was running around. The racket had started about five minutes ago, after the teenager had disappeared up into his room with something green in his hand. God alone knew what the teenager was doing up there (and also whatever Misa had to do with the matter), but if it didn't stop Alister would go up there and throw the boy down the stairs, bad arm or not.

_Screeeee-_

"OH HOLY MOTHER O'—!"

In the next second a series of loud crashes came from the stairwell, followed almost immediately by Valon hitting the ground in a crumpled heap. It was rather obvious what had happened.

Alister stared at the boy where he'd fallen and was debating on whether to be glad the noise had stopped or worried that Valon had fallen down the stairs, when Raphael abruptly came out of the kitchen and solved Alister's conundrum.

"What happened?" he asked with a hint of alarm. Raphael had not really been paying attention to the noises upstairs as he worked (or perhaps he was deliberately ignoring the obviously loud yells and thumps from above him) until he'd heard _someone _fall down the stairs. That was when Raphael had decided that he needed to investigate.

Alister looked over at him and shrugged. "If it's Valon, it's something ridiculously preposterous and we'll wind up regretting knowing what happened later," he replied casually, returning his attention back to the television set.

Raphael's eyes landed on Valon's sprawled figure and he moved toward the Australian, concern flickering in his eyes when he noticed that the brunette hadn't moved at all. "Valon? Are you all right?"

With a yelp that startled both of his older companions and an alarmingly graceful movement, Valon immediately propelled himself onto his feet and flung himself over the edge of the sofa; it was a lucky thing that Alister's self-preservation instincts made him pull his broken arm close to his body, because the Australian landed dangerously close to where the redhead was sitting.

"Run f'r it, fellas! She's possessed!" Valon cried, already passing by the now incredibly surprised older bikers and running for the kitchen.

More out of instinct than anything else Raphael reached out and snagged Valon in midstride. "Who's possessed?" he asked, keeping a firm grip on the teenager. He noticed that Valon's arms and legs had angry red scratches all up and down them, and they all looked vaguely familiar…

Valon had no time to explain anything, for Alister let out a startled gasp as something practically leapt over his head. It began tearing around the room in an indefinable blur, an odd yowling sound emanating from it as it dove beneath tables and ran in dizzying circles.

It took the older bikers a few seconds before they realized that they were looking at Misa.

Their normally playful and friendly cat's fur was standing out and she seemed to look like a giant puffball. Her green eyes were now roughly the size of golfballs, her pupils just tiny pinpricks in comparison; the almost maniacal light in the emerald orbs sent chills up the biker's spines. Even as the trio watched, the cat dropped to the floor to rub and roll on its surface before shooting to her feet and sprinting around the room once more.

"What on earth did you do to Misa?" Alister managed at last in a strangled voice, staring at the feline with something akin to horror.

"Nothin'!" Valon said with half-panic, half-indignation. "I swear I did nothin' to 'er!"

"You obviously did _something_," said Raphael in exasperation. "Cats don't run around rooms just because they feel like it."

"All I did was give 'er a bit o' cel'ry. She wanted some 'n' i's not like I actually eat the stuff. I didn' see any 'arm to it…oh come on! Don' tell me you're gonna pin this on me!"

"What would possess you to give a cat _celery_?" Alister asked in disbelief.

"It's a veggie! 'ow was I s'pposed t' know that cats got 'igh off o' cel'ry?" the teenager asked indignantly.

"Generally, they don't. Most cats view celery or catnip as a relaxant," Raphael commented, keeping a wary eye on the feline's progress. "But this is Misa. She's anything but most cats."

"…You are a walking cat encyclopedia, you know that? I bet I could ask you any—wait, now what's going on?" the redhead snapped, though his voice sounded a bit worried at their cat's actions

Misa had stopped running and had whirled around to face them, as if she had just realized that they were there. She immediately crouched down low to the ground, her puffed out tail lashing out back and forth. Misa began slinking toward them, her emerald eyes holding a feral glint that honestly bordered on homicidal.

"Raphael, you know more about cats than we do," Alister began uneasily. "What is she doing?"

"Stalking us," the burly blonde replied, just as uncomfortable sounding as his red-haired companion.

"But we're much bigger than she is," Valon said in protest, beginning to back away.

"I know that, Alister knows that, and you know that," the blonde said, subtly moving out of Misa's immediate line of sight. "But I don't think that Misa has been let in on that little detail."

"Um…fellas? Don' you think we oughta run f'r it?"

"We are grown men who almost brought about the Apocalypse. There is no way we are running from a _kitten_," Alister scowled, gray eyes flashing with indignation at the idea.

"That may be true," the eldest of them cut in, already backing out of the room slowly. "But there's nothing undignified about executing a tactical retreat."

Raphael had no sooner managed to get to the exit when Misa let out an unholy sounding yowl and practically flew at them, hissing and spitting as madly as a runaway firecracker. Valon and Alister promptly scrambled after their older companion, Misa hot on their heels and gaining all the while.

…Later, after the trio had finally managed to lock Misa inside the hall closet and bore the marks of her claws, a unanimous decision was made: there would be no more celery inside the house.


	63. The Weakest Link

_God help me. My plot bunnies are scary when it comes to inspiration._

_I was watching CSI when the bunny attacked, and I honestly am slightly afraid of it. Why? Well…the person who's the subject of this shot is…argh, how do I explain it without being chased by an angry mob? In either event, you'll figure out who it is once you start reading._

_Post-DOOM, set sometime before "Intruder", and after this go check out yet another one of my polls. It needs a few seconds of your time._

_EDIT: For some reason people couldn't access this chapter. I took it down and reloaded it to see if people could get at it. If not, drop me a PM and I'll get in touch with the admins._

* * *

Finding the weakest link was not always the easiest task, he mused idly as he dangled a small chain from his fingertips. After all, it took dedication and perseverance to locate its position, and sometimes it would take days—if not weeks—to find it. But when he did then it was the easiest thing in the world to split the chain apart and break it down into a worthless object.

The particular chain he had been studying had taken him years to determine where the link was, but it was not the one he currently held in his hand; that would have taken him only minutes and the small chain was delicate and easy to break. No…this one was invisible, forming slowly over the period of time he had observed it, which was why he had initially been unable to figure out where the link was.

Not to mention that the "chain" in question was in fact three people, his three former work associates.

It had taken a bit of work, but he had at last figured it out.

At first he had thought that it was the loud-mouthed Valon. He certainly got into trouble that everyone had to bail him out of, and the boy was most definitely a magnet for misfortune. But no sooner had he thought it he had dismissed it—that insufferable ingrate was the obvious choice, one that an amateur would make. Besides, he had already tried to take Valon out by anonymously directing the teen's parents at him, and that plan had completely fallen through.

His thoughts had then turned toward the aloof and quiet Alister, but again he had dropped the idea almost immediately; the silent and aloof redhead was indeed a weakness, since he relied solely on himself to solve problems and rarely told anyone when he was in trouble, but he was not what could be termed as the weak link. Alister was many things, but the man did not have enough criteria to pass inspection.

That left him with the oldest and strongest looking of the trio, Raphael.

Most people would argue with that observation vehemently, since they would only look at Raphael's obvious musculature and instantly determine that there was no way he could be a weak anything. And most people would be right—physically, he was not what he was looking for.

It was what Raphael represented that made him the weakest link, because no matter which way one looked at it he was what held the chain together.

He was the one who stopped the younger biker's arguments before they escalated to the point of no return, and in the event things did get out of hand he was the one that pulled them back together. He was the one who gave them helpful advice, he was the one who had come through for them more than once, and in return he was the one that both Valon and Alister listened to more than Master Dartz.

If Raphael was removed from the picture, then the fragile relationship that Alister and Valon had—formed because of the older blonde's gentle but firm guidance—would disintegrate. The two would fight, their arguments escalating until finally a line was crossed and they bitterly parted ways.

And that was what he wanted. He _wanted_ those traitors to suffer the way he had. He wanted them to feel what it was like to have their mentor, the one they showed unmistakable respect to and cared for, taken from them. He wanted to watch the chain break apart and the friendship that had formed as a result dissolve into hatred and chaos.

First, however, he would have to get rid of Raphael.

To do that, he would need to establish that his theory was correct. A preemptive strike to test the reactions of the other two members that formerly had served alongside him, just as a last minute precaution to make certain he was right.

But ultimately, Raphael would die. That was an absolute certainty.

He eyed the chain distastefully for a while before taking up the other end of the chain and with a swift motion pulled on both ends. The metal band snapped immediately in half, the severed halves of the broken link glinting in the faint light of the streetlamp before vanishing into the darkness around him.

He glared the house the three betrayers were sleeping in darkly before carelessly tossing the broken chain into the grass in front of their house. A couple more days and he would return here to carry out his purpose; he still needed to iron out a few details in his plan, after all. For now, though, he had to return to where he himself had been residing (if one cared to call an abandoned and broken down shed a home).

It was all right, though. He could wait that long; the days always seemed to fly by since DOOM had ended.

Besides, patience was a virtue that Gurimo loved to exercise.


	64. Dog Days Of Summer

_I wrote this one based off a curious phrase I bumped into the other day, and before anyone asks I researched the climate this time for Australia. The area Valon's from matches both "Snowfall" and this particular shot, though it DOES snow in Australia—but usually not in Sydney. I still have no idea where Domino is; I will leave that up for you to figure out where the city is._

_The phrase in question is the title of this chapter, and I'm curious to see how many people know how the phrase originated and who came up with it (without looking on the Internet). Winner gets a cookie!_

_This one is set post-DOOM, after Alister's story arc (that cast is not going away for a while)._

* * *

It was a nice summer's day in Domino. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, the butterflies were in abundance, and the ice cream was definitely melting. All around, the citizens of Domino were enjoying the warm days of the summer, looking forward to the days ahead.

…Had you going, didn't I?

In reality, the day was certainly NOT nice, the birds had almost roasted into miniature chickens, the butterflies sometimes seemed to be on fire, the ice cream was…well, it was still melting. All around, the citizens of Domino were miserable, dreading what most termed as "the dog days of summer."

The biker's household included.

Raphael was currently at his job, grateful for once that the interior of the building was far too cold; normally, the thermostat of the place he worked at seemed to be stubbornly set to the temperature of a walk-in freezer and he would end up shivering for most of the day, but this time the burly man was glad it was so bone-numbingly cold inside.

However, Alister and Valon were not so happy.

The air conditioning had chosen the worst time to start acting up, since it was only half-working and did very little to alleviate the blistering heat; though the repairman was supposed to come tomorrow they were trapped with a broken air-conditioning unit. As a result the two younger bikers were reduced to setting up whatever fans they had and using them in hopes of cooling down.

Valon was semi-used to the heat, but the temperature outside was something he was not used to since Sydney rarely had such brutally hot summers, and the Australian simply could not function. Raphael was more adjusted, since he had spent a couple of years trapped on a tropical island, but he too was uncomfortable.

Alister was especially miserable, since he was not only unused to the heat outside but he also had the cast on his arm, which was the equivalent to an itchy wool blanket. If it wasn't for the fact that the cast was obviously necessary he would have taken it off ages ago, but he could not and was reduced to taking shelter indoors with an icepack nearby to cool him down.

Even Misa was unhappy in the heat. The feisty feline spent most of the day sprawled in the bottom of the bathtub, rarely getting out except for a quick drink of water; Misa needed several refills in her water dish per day to keep her happy.

Because of the weather outside all three bikers were lethargic when at home and lacked energy to do very much; this was why today had found both Alister and Valon at home, taking shelter inside from the sweltering heat outside instead of venturing out. Valon had tried to get out of the house once to take shelter at Marik's home, but to the boy's chagrin the Ishtar's home was even more uncomfortable—the heat outside was something the Egyptian family was all too used to, which meant they did not need the air conditioning as much.

"Are you sure we can' swim?" Valon whined uncomfortably, scooting closer to the fan that was closest to the armchair where he sat. "It'd be bloody good righ' 'bout now."

"To go swimming means we have to go outside, the water's not much better than warm bathwater, and the center's pool is undergoing repairs," Alister replied irritably, scratching at his arm before flopping onto his side to try and catch more of the cool air. Much to his annoyance, the air seemed to be losing its cooling quality despite the two fans that were directed at the sofa.

"Mate, you aren' gonna melt if ya decide t' actually go jump in the water," the brunette commented.

In response the slender redhead lifted his casted arm with an annoyed flourish. "I am _not_ going into the pool with a plastic bag over my arm. That just makes it worse," he snapped. "If you want to swim you're doing it alone."

"But I can' swim all tha' well," Valon said drowsily, looking over at his companion with half-opened blue eyes.

Alister debated for a moment longer, decided that he was too tired to argue any further with Valon, and then rose to his feet. "All right. Feel free to do what you want. I am going upstairs."

The Australian actually lifted his head to look up at Alister with confusion. "What are ya gonna do up there? I's 'otter upstairs then 'ere."

"I'm going to put my swimsuit on, kick Misa out of the tub, and then fill the tub with ice water. I will probably stay there until nightfall when the sun's gone—VALON, GET BACK HERE!"

* * *

Raphael stopped in the doorway to the kitchen, feeling a perplexed frown make its way onto his face. "Do I even want to know what you're doing?" he asked with a hint of resignation.

The older biker had come home from work only to find one of his companions sprawled on the kitchen floor in front of the freezer, the metal door open enough to allow cold air to escape but not enough to spoil the food. A fan was also directed at his prone body, and the younger biker looked genuinely comfortable in his newfound spot.

Alister didn't open his eyes or look up at Raphael, uncaring of however odd his current position looked. "Valon beat me to the shower and I didn't want to go in your room while you were gone. I'm hot. Floor's cold. You do the math."


	65. Shark Week And Seafood

_Before anyone asks, Shark Week ended today. If you weren't following along, then I recommend you nail the next one—they're annual. Speaking of sharks, the opinions expressed in here are only the opinions I believe the characters would take and do not necessarily reflect any of the views I hold._

_…In other words, don't get mad if someone doesn't like sharks._

_This one is set during DOOM when they're at one of their safehouses (not the one they inhabit post-DOOM)._

* * *

"It's official: Shark Week is the best week ever."

One would have expected to hear that coming from Valon, but to hear it come from the normally stoic and aloof redhead had Raphael look up from his book and at the television screen with startled surprise. A shark kept swimming in and out of focus of the camera, and his ice-blue eyes followed it briefly before returning his gaze to Alister, who was sitting on the sofa. "I don't quite follow."

"Shark Week is that one week of the year when every moron known to man hits the water to try and prove that sharks are not dangerous."

Raphael snorted in amusement. "Every moron?"

"Well, almost. Valon may act like a nimrod most of the time, but even he wouldn't go swimming in open water hand-feeding a ten-foot tiger shark some fish," Alister amended with a careless shrug.

"Is that what they're doing?" Raphael inquired in disbelief, reaching for the remote to turn up the program.

"You bet. He's even named this particular shark 'Dolores'," the redhead said with a mocking smile. "I don't think he's realized that he's teaching a tiger shark—which can and will eat anything—that hey! Divers equal dinner!"

The burly blonde raised an eyebrow, though an amused smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Clearly this isn't the first time you've ranted about this."

"I don't like sharks," Alister said bluntly and without hesitating in the slightest. "Everyone thinks that they've got a case of mistaken identity when they attack someone. I think that they're on something. Sharks know _exactly _what's swimming in the water, and they've proven that before with Great White sharks. I don't want to fish them out entirely, but at least regulating them would help."

Raphael remained silent, frowning thoughtfully.

"Something tells me you don't quite believe my argument," the redhead commented flatly, turning to face his older companion.

"Sharks also have been proven to mistake people for fish on occasion. It happens all the time with surfers, tiger sharks, and Great Whites; from below, they look like seals or turtles. Sometimes it really is a case of mistaken identity," said Raphael at last, looking to the television screen with a slight frown marring his features. "Remember, they are apex predators in the ocean. Fishing them out won't solve anything."

Alister scoffed. "Please tell me you aren't one of those people who blindly defend the sharks."

Raphael gave Alister a rueful smirk. "Not exactly," he said wryly. His amusement seemed to vanish as he looked at the tiger shark swim nearby the diver. Instead, his eyes took on a faraway look, seeing something that Alister could not as he watched the screen. "For me, dealing with sharks was an all too common occurrence. I may not hold anything against them, but I still won't go in the water should I see one."

Alister's eyebrow arched. "You've been in the water with a shark?"

Raphael shrugged. "Several, if you want to get technical. Also without safety gear or shock prods—I was armed with nothing but a really flimsy wooden spear."

"When were you ever in the water with a…no, wait. That happened on the island, didn't it?" the red-haired biker stated, comprehension lighting his gray eyes. The statement was confirmed by a brief dip of Raphael's head and Alister asked, "Did you ever get bitten?"

"No, thankfully. But I'll tell you this: on several occasions they had me almost flying from the water, they were that close to getting me," said the blonde flatly, reaching for the book he had been reading before Alister had spoken. "They also taste good if you cook them just right, though with proper seasoning it would have tasted better—"

"You've eaten sharks, too?" It was Alister's turn to be surprised.

"They got caught in my net all the time when I left it out to catch dinner. If they were dead, I certainly couldn't let it go to waste—especially if they made a mess of my net," Raphael replied steadily. "They ruined a good day's work. I figured it was equal exchange."

"So tha's why you don' like seafood!" Valon chirped abruptly, startling both Alister and Raphael as he leapt over the back of the sofa to land cross-legged on the cushions. The boy had been upstairs for the duration of the afternoon, presumably taking a nap. "I's cause sharks saw ya eatin' their chums 'n' now you're tryin' not to tick 'em off by not eatin' any more of their buddies. When you go back in the water, they'll leave you alone instead of tryin' to eat ya!"

"…Do you ever think before you start talking?" Alister asked in an annoyed voice, his gray eyes flickering with barely concealed irritation.

Raphael shook his head, looking at Valon with a wry smile. "That's not quite the reason. I don't like seafood because I had nothing but fish for three years," he said with a grimace. "Seafood tends to get old real quick when you don't eat anything else."

"Ah…I still think my explanation's better," said Valon with a small pout before his attention went to the screen. His cerulean eyes lit up when he saw what was on television. "Oh! I's Shark Week!"

"I take it you like sharks," said Alister with a hint of resignation.

"Mate, 'ave you seen them sharks leap outta the water? It's bloody spectacular!" said Valon in excitement. "Those fish are brilliant!"

"When you get your arm bitten off by a shark, remind me to repeat what you just said," the red-haired biker commented flatly.

A thought seemed to strike Alister and he looked back over at Raphael, who was once again immersed in his book. "Raphael?" he asked, beginning to smirk in spite of himself at the thought in his mind.

The older blonde looked back up wordlessly, waiting for Alister to keep talking.

"You're going to think that this is both a random and really insensitive question, especially concerning your background, but when you got back to the mainland after you were rescued did your family serve you seafood?"

The older blonde wrinkled his nose in distaste. "You mean like what happened in the movie _Cast Away? _Unfortunately."

"Why'd they do a dumb thing like tha'?" asked Valon curiously. "Didn' they think tha' maybe you'd wan' somethin' diff'rent?"

"Funny thing about my relatives—they don't seem to think all that much," the blonde deadpanned.

"Speaking of brainless activities, Raphael, I need assistance in the kitchen," Gurimo said flatly, cutting into the conversation and effectively ending it. "It is your turn to help with dinner."

Alister shot a withering glance at the monocled man but said nothing; the implied insult that Gurimo had directed at the blonde had not gone unnoticed.

Raphael glanced at his companions with a helpless sort of shrug before standing up and crossing the room, following after Gurimo into the kitchen. Valon grinned, leaping from the sofa to the armchair Raphael had previously been sitting in and continuing to watch the sharks with rapt attention.

No sooner had Valon settled down in his new seat and Alister had immersed himself back into the shark program, Raphael calmly left the kitchen, picked up his book, and headed for the stairs. "Have fun at dinner," he said over his shoulder. "I'll get something later."

In spite of himself, Alister smirked. "Speak of the devil and it will appear."

At the brunette's confused expression, the slender redhead stated flatly, "I'm assuming we're having fish for dinner, which is why Raphael's made a dignified retreat."


	66. Caught in the Current

_Funny how my plot bunnies work._

_I was just playing a bit on the piano when suddenly this bunny attacked me, and I couldn't get rid of it no matter how hard I tried. So, as a result, we have this shot; it's longer than normal, but I had to type out the whole thing, regardless of how long it was. I hope you understand :D_

_During DOOM, set sometime after "I Fell Down The Stairs", and bonus points if you figure out where they are (note: only one hint, and it's very subtle)!_

* * *

The water was getting more turbulent.

That's what bothered Alister when he looked out from where he sat on the beach, clad in his dark duster and pants. Since the beach was delegated only for private residents Alister was alone on the shore, with not even a lifeguard in sight. Normally it didn't bother him at all; Raphael was usually the one that got uncomfortable when the ocean acted rough.

But today Alister was keeping an eye on Valon, who was out in the water. The teenager had suggested that they go to the beach since it was hot outside and they rarely took advantage of the beach, but Gurimo insisted that Raphael remain at their current home to finalize details of the mission happening later that night. Much to Alister's displeasure, the monocled man had delegated Alister as being in charge of the Australian.

"Who knows? It might wear him out enough so that on the mission tonight he doesn't mess it up and actually does what I tell him. Make sure he doesn't start a luau or some nonsense like that," Gurimo had stated.

He heard a distant shout and he looked around until his gray eyes landed on Valon, who was almost neck deep in the water. The boy was waving cheerfully at him, a grin visible on his face even from where he sat. Alister rolled his eyes and glanced at his watch. The redhead brushed some stray sand off of his pants and rose to his feet, motioning for Valon to return to shore.

The boy gave another cheerful wave, already paddling through the water clumsily and towards the beach; Valon was not the greatest swimmer around, but he knew just enough to function.

Alister's cell phone began to ring, and he eyed it briefly before recognizing the caller ID. "If you're calling to tell us to come back, I've already called Valon in. He should be getting to shore any moment now," he said into the phone after he answered it.

"_Good," _Raphael's voice stated with a hint of relief. "_I just checked the weather forecast. There's a storm heading in and we got the mission planned out. We need to go over it with you two."_

Alister opened his mouth to reply, but whatever he had been about to say vanished as he looked out at the water.

Valon was gone.

At first Alister thought that maybe Valon had ducked beneath the waves to avoid getting a face full of salt water, but then he realized that the boy was not swimming against the waves; he shouldn't have to duck underwater at all. The red-haired man's breath came in sharply, and his eyes immediately began scanning the surface of the water.

"_Alister? What happened?"_

An object caught his interest as he identified what it was, and with a surprising amount of tranquility in his voice he replied, "I'll have to call you back. Valon's drowning."

Dropping the phone onto the sand Alister made a beeline for the water, inwardly berating himself for not paying attention. He had noticed local signs near the beach, all warning of the dangerous rip tides that ran along a certain point out in the water, but the weather forecast had said the current had shifted today, running further out than where Valon was.

But, Alister recalled with a snarl, clearly no one had taken Valon's luck into account. The rip tide must have shifted back to shore because of the incoming storm, and the Australian was now trapped in one.

Valon was trying to swim against the current, panic evident on his face as he tried desperately to reach shore. But the teenager only had meager swimming abilities, and coupled with his fear the boy was no match for the waves.

Alister only paused to get rid of his duster before he went into the water, moving out toward the frightened younger biker. He could see the current now, which helped him navigate toward where Valon was without getting caught himself; the water had turned an odd sandy color in comparison to the rest of the ocean around them, occasionally tossing a wave that shoved Alister back.

The redhead managed to get up to his shoulders before he had to stop to avoid the rip tide, his gray eyes scanning for Valon once again—the boy had vanished underwater once more while Alister had been heading out.

"Valon!" he called, searching through the water and shoving down the rising panic. "Valon, answer me!"

Just as he was about to head into the current himself to find the boy, he heard a frightened gasp that was audible over the sound of the waves and the red-haired biker instantly homed in on it. Valon was a few feet further than where he had been originally at, which meant the current was taking him out into the open ocean.

"Alister! Alister, 'elp!" the boy cried, his cerulean eyes dancing with fear as he struggled to get back through the water and to Alister. "Please! I can't—!" he began, only to vanish underwater once again.

Alister kept his eyes on the current, swimming alongside it and watching intently for Valon to reappear. A moment later Valon came into view, coughing and spluttering as he continued to fight the tide.

"Swim with the current!" Alister shouted, struggling to keep pace with the floundering teenager. "Valon, listen to me! Stop struggling! You'll drown if you keep doing what you are!"

"But 'm 'eadin' out to sea! Alister, you gotta get me outta 'ere!" Valon yelled back desperately. He let out a distressed whine as he continued to fight the current, but Alister could already see that Valon was wearing out; he would drown if he did not stop struggling.

"Valon, for once in your life shut up and listen to me!" he snarled. "I won't let you go out to sea! Just float in the current and swim to me when I tell you!"

Valon seemed to hesitate one final moment before he nodded and quit swimming altogether, only moving to keep his head above water. Alister wasted no time and immediately surged ahead, trying to find a place that the rip tide was not flowing through and where Valon could get to him.

At length Alister stopped swimming and turned, feeling slightly satisfied when he noticed that he had gotten ahead of Valon and was even in a position where he could intercept the brunette. "Valon! I want you to swim diagonally over to me!" he called out.

The Australian nodded again before he began paddling toward Alister, slowly but surely making his way through the water. Valon was running out of energy, judging by the exhausted expression on his face, but he was definitely getting closer.

Abruptly Valon disappeared once again, but this time he did not resurface. Alister swore sharply, taking a breath before diving underwater and forcing his eyes open. Immediately he spotted Valon as the teenager floated by. The redhead reached out, snagged one of Valon's arms, and with an almighty tug he pulled the boy with him as he made for the surface.

Valon choked on the water he swallowed when they came up, gasping for air and thrashing about in alarm. Alister grunted as the brunette elbowed him by accident, trying to keep his head above the water. "Quit struggling before you drown us both!" he snarled at last.

The other biker stopped struggling almost immediately at the sound of Alister's voice, looking up at him with weary relief. "You came 'n' got me," he said with a tired grin.

"Of course I came after you!" Alister snapped irritably, still heading for the shallows. "If I let you drown Gurimo and Raphael would never let me hear the end of it. Don't even get me started on what Master Dartz would do to me."

The teenager remained silent for a moment. "Thanks anyway, chum."

"…Don't think this means anything. You're still a moron, as far as I'm concerned."

Valon grinned. "I'll take your word f'r it, mate."

Alister returned his attention to the shoreline, noticing with relief that they were closer to it and he gingerly tested to see if he could stand; his feet touched the bottom, though they were still chest deep in the water. Valon rose to his feet, but yelped as his legs gave out beneath him and he toppled into Alister. The redhead gripped the boy by one of his arms and began wading through the waves to the shore.

To Alister's surprise, Raphael was waiting for them in knee deep water, not bothering to hide the anxiety on his face; the man must have come directly to the beach once he realized something was wrong.

"Are you two all right?" Raphael asked sharply once they had gotten closer.

"'m fine, Raph," said Valon wearily, leaning against Alister. "Just a bit tuckered out, 's all."

"If that's the case, get off me," the redhead stated bluntly, moving away from the teenager.

Predictably, the brunette started listing to the side the moment Alister left, but Raphael already was moving forward to support the teenager. Once he had gotten Valon steadied the blonde began returning to the shore; Alister followed after them, trudging wearily through the surf.

"Where's Gurimo?" he asked as he bent down to pick up his fallen duster.

"Back at the safe house. He didn't believe you were in trouble," said Raphael in a would-be calm tone, but there was no hiding the dangerous edge to his voice. "I myself got here just as you two got out of the tide."

"Good thing you didn't listen to him," replied Alister flatly, masking his relief. He suspected that if things had gotten truly desperate Raphael would have gone into the water after them; the thought was comforting, to say the least.

Valon reached for the towel Alister had been sitting on and wrapped it around him. "Stupid bloke," the teenager said irritably. "I think Alister's right. 'e's out t' get me."

Raphael studied Valon intently as the boy half walked, half stumbled toward the beach entrance. "He seems all right," he said quietly, his ice blue eyes betraying his relief. He turned to look at Alister with a concerned frown on his face. "What about you?"

Alister snorted. "Next time he better drown on your watch. I don't run a charity business."

The blonde watched him for a moment longer before a slight smile quirked at the corner of his mouth. "I'll take that to mean that you're all right," he said, beginning to head after Valon. He paused, turning partially to look back at Alister. "And I also don't think you would have let him drown."

The worst part of that statement, Alister realized with annoyance, was that Raphael was absolutely right.


	67. The Sound of Music

_…I think a few of my plot bunnies are enamored with the piano._

_This one is set in Raphael's childhood, and cookies to anyone who can identify what Lilith is playing (hint: look for a key word that has been used in a previous chapter). Leave me reviews on your way out!_

* * *

Lilith hummed along idly as her hands gracefully flew over the piano keys, never missing a single note to the cantata she was playing and delighting in the sound of the music. Robert, who was sitting across from her with his daily newspaper in hand, had a contented smile on his face as he alternated between watching his wife and reading.

The blonde Frenchwoman felt a smile of her own make its way onto her features, though her concentration never wavered once as she continued to play; as a child she had chosen to take piano lessons because it was required in her family to learn one of the arts, and though she had not liked it at all growing up she was grateful she had persisted with the lessons. Because of her constant practicing, she could play the piano for Robert and make him smile—she felt the trade was worth it.

Robert was not the only one who liked to listen to her play the piano, she thought to herself as she felt a familiar and insistent tug on her skirt. She paused at the next resting note and directed her attention to her three year old son, who was using the piano bench as a balancing tool to keep him standing.

"Mama, what p'aying?" Raphael asked, his blue eyes round with curiosity.

Lilith gazed warmly down at the child, whose blonde hair was once again standing up defiantly. "I'm playing the piano," she replied, lifting one of her hands from the ivory keys to try and flatten Raphael's hair back down on his head.

The boy's brow furrowed in confusion. "Pi'no? What dat?" he inquired, staring up at the instrument with a quizzical frown on his face.

The older woman looked thoughtfully back at her son, thinking of a way she could explain what she was doing to Raphael. At length, she said, "I'm making music with it."

"What myusic?"

Robert let out a deep-throated chuckle as he saw Lilith struggle to come up with an explanation, setting the paper down on his lap. "They're pretty sounds, Raphael," he said simply, amusement twinkling in his hazel eyes.

Raphael's bright blue eyes lit up and his mouth dropped open into an 'o' of understanding. "Mama make p'etty soun's?" he asked.

"That's right," Robert said with a smile, looking at Lilith as he spoke. "Mama makes pretty sounds. We call those sounds music, and we use the piano to make music."

"I p'ay pi'no, Mama?" Raphael asked hopefully, reaching upward for his mother. "I wan' make p'etty soun's too."

Lilith's smile grew and she easily scooped the boy up, setting him on her lap and settling him comfortably before she placed her hands on the piano board once again. She gently lifted one of Raphael's small hands and placed it on top of her own, and the child set his other hand down on top of his mother's free one.

"Leave your hands where they are, or I can't make music," she said gently when Raphael tried to move. The child instantly stopped, leaving his hands where they were obediently on top of his mothers, and Lilith waited until Raphael had stopped squirming before resuming the cantata from where she left off.

She could not see Raphael's facial expression directly, but the mirror across the piano gave her a good view of herself and her son, so while she played the cantata she looked over at the mirror; another benefit of her earlier piano lessons was that she didn't have to look at the keyboard or even the notes.

Raphael's eyes were on the piano keys, watching the way his mother's hands moved beneath his to play each of the notes. His facial expression was a combination of wonder and delight, and Lilith's smile—if it was possible at this point—grew in size. She noticed from the corner of her eye that Robert had disappeared from the room; she had no doubt about what her husband was doing.

Her suspicion was confirmed when another glance from her peripheral vision moments later showed Robert sitting back in his chair with his camera in hand, either waiting to take a picture or already having took it and he now was watching them with a smile of his own.

Lilith was not sure how long she had been playing, but when the doorbell rang she jumped. Raphael blinked in surprise, nearly falling off his mother's lap when she had moved; he had been engrossed in the piano and the music coming from it, so her unexpected movement caught him off guard.

"That would be Edith," she said, lifting Raphael into her arms briefly as she carefully maneuvered behind the bench. "She did say she was going to stop by later on today."

Robert made a face when he was sure Lilith was not looking, rising to his feet nonetheless. "You go on ahead, love. I have to go put a few things up before I greet your sister—we can't have her walking into a mess, can we?"

As if on cue, Raphael started squirming in her arms. "I wan' get 'Basti'n," he said with a bit of a whine, pointing to his teddy bear; the bear was a gift from Lilith's mother and his full name was actually Sebastion, but Raphael had not managed to pronounce the whole name yet.

Lilith set Raphael down, watching the three year old toddle toward his previously forgotten teddy bear before heading to the doorway. "We'll be down in the parlor, Robert. Bring Raphael with you when you come down," she said over her shoulder, already beginning to head down the staircase.

"Papa?"

The tall Englishman looked down at his son, who had gotten a hold of Sebastion and was now watching his father curiously. "You make p'etty soun's?"

"I'm afraid not," Robert said, folding his newspaper up and setting it carefully on the end table. "I never had the knack for music that your mother has."

"Mama make myusic now?"

Robert sighed, looking to where his son was hopefully looking up at him. "I don't think Mama will play the piano with Auntie over here, but you can certainly ask her. Mama might if you ask her nicely."

Raphael seemed to be thinking about that information, since he didn't say a word while his father straightened the room and made certain that nothing was amiss. It wasn't until Robert picked his son up when Raphael finally said something, his tiny face scrunched up with a frown. "Auntie make ug'y soun's when vis'ting," he stated resolutely, scowling as he adjusted his grip on his teddy bear. "She not nice."

Robert laughed in spite of himself, leaving the room with Raphael perched comfortably in his arms. He began going down the stairs, already able to see Edith where she sat in the parlor. "I know that and you know that, but don't say it in front of your mother or Auntie. I don't think they notice things the way you do."


	68. Of Twilight and Frankenstein

_I blame a friend of mine for showing me a certain movie that has absolutely nothing to do with the summertime at all; I know it isn't Halloween yet, but it wouldn't leave me alone until I posted. Cookies if anyone can guess it (although, the hint is kind of obvious). As a note, I apologize in advance if you are a Twilight fan; you'll understand why in a minute._

_I also want to thank you all so far for giving my story so much love; the hit count right now is over 10,000 (leave the overused DBZ joke out of this :D) and it's all thanks to you guys!_

_Post-DOOM, and Alister still has his cast on - he will have it for a while yet._

* * *

"You're a vampire," said Valon bluntly, pointing at Alister as he spoke.

The redhead didn't even look away from the television, keeping his sandwich out of Misa's reach as he continued to watch whatever program was on (it was hard to tell, since Alister had turned down the volume on the television). "Oh no, my secret has been found out. I better hide that coffin in my room and make sure we don't have wooden stakes lying around," he said flatly, gently shoving Misa off his lap.

Raphael, who was in the kitchen making his own lunch, overheard the younger biker's statement and padded out to the doorway. "Care to elaborate on that?" he asked idly. He had heard Valon's all-too-often claims that their red-haired friend was a vampire, but usually such claims came around Halloween; it was far too early for Valon to be making that accusation.

"I was wonderin' wha' kinda 'alloween monsters we'd be if we 'ad to be one," Valon explained, flopping into the empty armchair to face his companions.

"You do realize that Halloween is in October," Raphael pointed out.

"I know, but I saw somethin' on TV the other day that 'ad t' do with 'alloween and it got me thinkin' 'bout it," the Australian said simply.

"They're showing Halloween movies this early?"

"Naw. Actually, it kinda 'ad a lot t' do with Christmas."

Alister raised an eyebrow, clearly recognizing what Valon was talking about, but before he could comment the Australian said, "I dunno what kinda 'alloween monster I'd be, though. What do you fellas think?"

The older bikers exchanged a quick glance before saying in unison, "Werewolf."

Valon scowled, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "Why the 'eck would I be a werewolf? Tha's somethin' Jounouchi would be, not me!"

"Because vampires and werewolves are always engaged in battle. If you're going by your previous statement by saying Alister is a vampire, it makes perfect sense that you would be a werewolf," Raphael stated with a shrug. "Besides, when werewolves transform they become downright savage. Think of it like your temper, when you truly get angry."

Valon frowned thoughtfully. "Tha' does make sense, if ya look at it tha' way."

"Are you sure he wouldn't be a zombie? There are days where he seems to lack a brain," the red-haired biker said sardonically. "Or maybe he should be a mummy—with the bandages over his mouth he wouldn't be able to ask as many stupid questions."

"Oh, ha ha ha. Very funny, Alister," Valon retorted irritably, a scowl in place.

He looked over at Raphael and frowned thoughtfully. "I'm not sure 'bout you, Raph. You'd either be some sorta wizard or Frankenstein; on one 'and, you'd be the kinda fella t' carry around a staff 'n' be all wise 'n' stuff, but you also 'ave the 'eight t' be Frankenstein."

"Being a wizard's definitely a possibility. Wizards can summon familiars, and you do have the Guardian cards; technically, you could call those familiars. They never did act like regular Duel Monsters, so it's plausible. But I do have to admit I also can picture you being Frankenstein," Alister commented, a smirk in place.

"Yeah, because I look like I'm made up of different body parts and I absolutely _love_ wreaking havoc in rural colonial villages," Raphael deadpanned. "It's one of my all-time favorite pastimes. You should come with me next time I go—there's something strangely exciting about being chased by an angry pitchfork-carrying mob."

Valon laughed out loud and the corner of Alister's mouth twitched.

"You mentioned earlier that Alister would be a vampire, and you claim he's one every Halloween. I never really did hear the reasoning behind that argument," Raphael continued, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. "Care to elaborate on that?"

"Sure. I's 'cause 'e's pale, 'e doesn' come outta 'is room a lot, and 'e's more active at night than we are…not t' mention tha' sometimes 'e even sparkles in the sunlight," said the teenager without hesitating in the slightest.

At this comment Raphael started to laugh, but at the sight of Alister's face quickly tried to disguise it as a coughing fit. Alister, who had been chewing on a part of his sandwich, choked. It took him a few minutes before the food went down and the redhead was able to speak.

"What do you mean I _sparkle?_" he snapped, gray eyes narrowing and lighting up menacingly. "Valon, you better not be comparing me to those fairy-impersonating, angst-filled, Power Ranger: Sparkle Squad vegetarian vampires that have been running around the theaters as of late. If you are, I have a cast and I'm not afraid to beat your head in with it."

Realizing only then that perhaps he should not have compared his companion to one of _Twilight_'s vampires, Valon figured that a hasty amendment was in order. "Well, you're not quite like that. I's just you sometimes kinda glow when you go out —"

Raphael only needed to take one look at the dark and rather murderous expression on Alister's face before he not-so-subtly moved in between his two younger companions. "Valon, stop talking now._ Please_. Murder hasn't been legalized yet, and the last thing we need is Alister in jail."


	69. How They Met: Part I

_I was toying with a couple of my bunnies when suddenly the idea popped up into my mind (and I know that everyone has been wondering about this themselves): how had all of their parents met?_

_These next three shots explore that particular bunny. I had intended for it to be all one chapter, but I looked at it and realized that I couldn't do it. Instead, I fleshed it out and turned them into chapters._

_Obviously pre-canon and a heartfelt "THANK YOU" to my unofficial beta for plot help._

* * *

The thunderstorm had come up so suddenly that the three girls, who were walking home from school, had no other alternative but to take shelter in a nearby convenience store and watch as the rain fell down in sheets; occasionally they heard the low rumble of thunder and saw the brilliant flash of the lightning outside them, and they were grateful that they had ducked inside when they had.

"Well, so much for that then," said one of the older girls knowledgably, shaking the water from her dark brown hair. "We'll just have to wait 'til the rain lets up."

"Now Emma, it's not like a little water's gonna make us melt," another girl joked, peering out to watch the falling rain and brushing some of her blonde curls behind her ear. "Besides, Cellie here has probably seen more rain than we have."

The third girl, who was looking curiously around her at the interior of the store, looked over at them with cerulean eyes. "You'd be right. I've lived in places where it rains for nearly half the year," she said wryly.

"We don't get nearly that much rain around here, and I bet that in about five minutes or so the rain's gonna stop and we can be on our merry way again in no time," said the other girl, eyeing the weather outside with a thoughtful frown. "It already looks like it's letting up."

"If that's the case, I might just go ahead and try to go home from here," replied the blue-eyed teenager, already coming to the door to look out at the sky above them.

"Tha's right, the base isn't too far from where we're at," said Emma, looking over at her with a frown. "You need someone to get you home, Celeste?"

"Not really. When you move around as much as I have, you need to learn how to navigate pretty quickly," Celeste stated, pulling the ponytail out of her hair and allowing it to fall freely in loose and tumbling curls. She began running her fingers through it in an attempt to comb it out. "You don't need to trouble yourselves at all."

"Oh yes we do," said the blonde-haired girl bluntly. "We'll still walk you home, and if you can't make it home then Emma can let you stick around at the Angliss place. She knows them well enough."

Celeste gave the other girl a small smile, noticing that the rain was already dissipating and the clouds were beginning to move off. "Let's see how the weather fares before we decide anything," she replied. "Thank you, though, Stephanie."

Though the rain had stopped falling for the most part, a light drizzle persisted to fall; outside, it seemed as if it were misting. From above them they could still hear the grumbling sound of thunder, telling them that the storm had not left just yet. After waiting for a few minutes it became apparent that the rain was not going to entirely stop falling.

"All right, we're just gonna have to get wet," announced Stephanie bluntly, already opening the door. "The storm's lulled and we're gonna have to get home one way or the other."

"But my make-up will come off," Emma whined unhappily, nonetheless following after Stephanie into the falling rain. "It's not waterproof!"

"Tough, Emma. Go get some waterproof make-up next time you're out!"

Celeste laughed as she followed after them, casting her eyes around her to gaze at her surroundings. When her parents had first moved to the military base that was stationed here a year and a half ago, she had been bewildered by the sight of a city; she had always pictured Australia as an open and vast desert. To see an actual bustling city had surprised her, and to find out that she was going to a school that was within a couple of blocks from the base was also surprising—usually her parents sent her to the school that was located on whatever base they were stationed at.

She tuned out of the conversation her friends were having, only replying when they addressed her by name; she wasn't really in the mood to engage in conversation with them, especially since they were coming up to a place where she needed to pay attention. Right now, she was looking intently at the stop sign ahead of her.

She was beginning to wonder if he would show up in the rain at all and was looking across the street when Stephanie abruptly moaned. "Oh no…he's there again! I've no idea why he keeps comin' here, but it's annoying me!"

Celeste's head shot up, her breath catching when her eyes landed on the boy leaning causally against the stop sign.

The teenager seemed to be older than they were, probably in college; they themselves were all juniors in high school still, but there was a local college in the area of their school and it was likely that he came from there and lived somewhere near this crosswalk.

Since Celeste had moved here—and even since the first day she had walked to her school and back—that boy had been at the stop sign, waiting for her to pass by; he had never said a word to her, and she had never spoken to him at all. Initially, she had not wanted to talk to him because he had seemed distinctly unapproachable; that impression had changed a couple months later when she noticed that he tended to joke and act as goofy as a young boy when he was around his friends.

Today, his tousled hair was hidden beneath the hood of a blue sweatshirt (which did nothing to hide his wiry but sculpted physique). He eyed Emma and Stephanie briefly before his attention went to Celeste, and to her surprise his eyes lit up when they landed on her.

"Just ignore him," muttered Emma as they got even closer. "That bloke's always hangin' around here like he owns the place."

Celeste tore her gaze away from his, choosing instead to watch the sidewalk as they passed him. She hoped she was doing a good job of hiding her blush, since she was well aware of what Emma and Stephanie thought of the stranger. They had been walking her home for only a couple of months, but they had disliked the teenager on sight; something about him had both of them shaking their heads in disapproval. They had both threatened to report him to the police until Celeste reminded them that they couldn't very well arrest someone for waiting at the crosswalk signal to walk.

Normally, the boy never said a word to them when they walked by; it had been an unspoken agreement that neither party would speak to the other. But there must have been something about the thunderstorm that had changed circumstances, because all three girls found that they boy had stepped in their way.

"'allo, ladies," he said cheerfully, startling all three of them and putting them on guard. He had never said a word to them before today had happened, which mean that they were instantly suspicious of anything he said. "I don' mean to be rude 'r anythin' like tha', but one o' you dropped this the other day and I figured I would give it back."

As he finished speaking he pulled out a small black keychain with a couple of keys on it. Celeste instantly recognized the logo on the leather tag attached to the chain; there was really no way to mistake the Army's insignia, despite any efforts to do so.

Celeste had not even noticed that the keychain was gone until now, when she was staring at it; she had spent the night over at one of her other friend's house, and she hadn't realized it was gone. She had to get them back—they were her house keys.

Celeste thought about it for a moment before she took a resolute step forward. "Those are mine," she said firmly, holding out her hand. "I need those to get in my house, and you obviously have no use for them."

A broad grin stretched across his face. "I was 'opin' it was you who owned these," he said, his dark eyes lighting up with delight. "You're a right pretty one, y'know tha'?"

"I've heard it mentioned once or twice," she replied, a slight flush appearing on her face. "But that has nothing to do with my keys. Give it back."

The teenager studied her for a moment. "I don' s'ppose I c'n get your number if I give 'em back? Tha' way I can call ya if you lose 'em again?"

"Sure, like I'm going to give you my phone number seconds after I meet you."

"Technically, love, this isn' the first time we've met. You 'n' I see each other every mornin'. This's jus' the first time I've talked t' ya b'fore."

"Give us Celeste's keys now," said Stephanie firmly, effectively cutting off Celeste's reply and ending the conversation; she also held her hand out for the aforementioned keychain. Celeste noted that both Emma and Stephanie had moved in between her and the teenage boy with identical glares on their faces—it was quite clear they didn't know what to expect from him.

This did not seem to faze the other boy at all. "Celeste? Tha's your name? I's right pretty," he said as he walked over to the brunette girl. He reached for her hand and she let out a startled gasp of alarm, but she had nothing to worry about—he simply placed the keys in her open palm before he lifted his hand to ruffle her hair playfully.

At that moment, the signal on the other side of the crosswalk changed, allowing him to cross the street. He passed by them without another word and he was about halfway across when he turned to face them, his eyes landing on Celeste and making contact with her own startled blue eyes. "I'll see you ladies t'morrow!" he called with a mischievous grin in place.

Emma scowled, waiting until he was out of sight before she placed her hands on her hips. "Who does he think he is anyhow? Why doesn't he go bother some other girls at his own school?"

Stephanie shook her head. "My mum says that people like that aren't very trustworthy. Celeste, be careful in the mornings, huh? We aren't there to protect you from the likes of him and he could make a move on you before anyone can blink."

"Calm down, you two. I already have one mother—I don't need two more," Celeste joked as she walked along, already able to sight the base from where she stood.

Secretly, though, she was already planning on getting his name. There was obviously a reason that he was there every day as she walked by, and she would get to the bottom of it. He already knew her name now; it was only fair that next time they met she should ask for his.

…Besides, he had seemed friendly enough. He could not be all that bad, she reasoned to herself as she said goodbye to her friends and stepped into the gates of the military base. Maybe she would say hello to him for a change and see what would happen.


	70. How They Met: Part II

_Here's part two for this mini-arc!_

_As a heads up: since I have no idea where on earth Alister is from (Scotland seems to be the most picked choice whenever this subject up but me personally...eh) I will leave it up to you to decide where Jonathan and Rosalie are at the moment._

_Obviously, this is pre-canon :D_

* * *

"Now, Jonathan, don't be shy," chided his mother gently as she nudged the tawny haired child forward. "Mrs. Mackenzie wants to say hello."

The nine year-old boy mumbled a greeting under his breath, refusing to make eye contact and looking down at his feet. His gray eyes flickered briefly as he looked back up at the smiling woman across from him before he averted his gaze and ducked back behind his mother.

"I'm sorry about Jonathan, Mrs. Mackenzie," his mother apologized. "He's normally much friendlier than this."

"Don't even worry yourself, Mrs. Gayle," said Mrs. Mackenzie cheerfully. "I've got a little oneof my own inside. Jonathan will feel right at home with my Rosalie; she's only a year younger than he is and she's just about the friendliest girl you'll meet. You've nothing to worry about."

Mrs. Gayle smiled at her before she once again nudged the reluctant boy forward. "Now Jonathan, you behave for Mrs. Mackenzie while your father and I are at the restaurant. If you need anything just let Mrs. Mackenzie know and she'll take care of you. Be a good boy in the meantime, though, all right?"

"Yes Mama," said Jonathan, giving her a small smile in response.

His mother and Mrs. Mackenzie talked for a little while longer before Mrs. Gayle had to leave and return home; she still needed to get ready for her outing later that night. After giving Jonathan a quick goodbye kiss she turned around and walked down the sidewalk. Within moments she was out of sight, leaving Jonathan behind with the other woman.

"I thought you could smile. Don't tell me you didn't flash those pearly whites, because I saw that one earlier when you were talking to your mother," said Mrs. Mackenzie playfully as she ushered Jonathan into the small but comfortable house. "You just take a bit to warm up to people, don't you?"

"Yes ma'am," he replied quietly.

Mrs. Mackenzie beamed at him before she stepped into the family room. The television was on and a small little girl was sitting on the floor. She wore a pair of khaki overalls and a light green shirt, as did the doll in her arms; they matched, Jonathan noted that with a less than enthusiastic look. Her curly dark red hair was pulled back into pigtails, and her blue-gray eyes shone in the light of the room.

"Rosie, dear, this is Jonathan," said Mrs. Mackenzie as she stepped into the room. "I'll need you to look after him; he'll be staying here while his parents are at the summer party."

"Don't call me 'Rosie', Mummy," replied the little girl with a small pout as she absently fiddled with the doll in her arms.

Jonathan looked up at Mrs. Mackenzie turned to leave the room, taking it as a signal that he was supposed to go in the room and sit down. He frowned, looking around for a seat that was not one in the immediate vicinity of the room's other occupant; he did not really know her, since his own family had moved to this neighborhood only a few months ago, and he was not in a particularly friendly mood at the moment.

"My name's Rosalie," said the girl with a smile, setting her doll down and skipping over to him. Her red curls bounced up and down as she came up to him, falling back into a disorganized pattern when she stopped moving.

"I'm Jonathan," he said, taking a wary step back when she came too close.

"Don't worry! I don't have cooties!" she said, taking another step closer. "Tommy says they only attack girls, but Mummy says I don't have them."

"Good for you," replied Jonathan flatly, taking another step backwards to keep distance between them.

The younger girl eyed him thoughtfully, tilting her head to the side and chewing on her bottom lip. "You sorta look like a girl, but not really," she announced after a brief pause, causing Jonathan to flush indignantly. "Maybe that's why you won't let me near you."

"I do not look like a girl!" he snapped hotly. "I just don't know you well enough to suddenly become your new best friend."

Rosalie looked at him with a friendly smile, her eyes twinkling with mirth. "That's all right. We don't have to be friends right away. I just think you're really cute, that's all," she said playfully, bounding back to the couch and returning her attention to her doll.

Jonathan felt even more heat travel up into his face, too surprised to try and hide his startled expression. "What did you say?" he asked with some difficulty, managing to wipe the blush off his face.

Rosalie giggled, her eyes twinkling with a mischievous light. "I think you're cute," she said without hesitation.

Jonathan scowled. "I'm not cute," he said indignantly. "You're the one who's supposed to be cute!"

Rosalie's giggles turned into full-blown laughter. "So you think I'm cute, Jonathan?" she managed to say in between her laughter.

Jonathan flushed again. "No! That's not what I meant!" he explained, gesturing helplessly. "I meant that since you're a girl you would be the one everyone thinks is cute. I'm a _boy_! Boys aren't supposed to be cute!"

"Does everyone who thinks I'm cute include you?" asked Rosalie with abrupt seriousness, watching him with an unreadable expression.

"Yes! " Jonathan said exasperatedly, slightly thrown by her sudden bout of seriousness. "Even I think that—wait,_ NO!"_ he yelped as soon as Rosalie's expression melted into a humorous one and she let loose with another round of bubbly laughter. "I didn't mean that!"

"Well, it certainly seems you two are getting along all right," said Mrs. Mackenzie with a good-natured smile as she entered the room, holding a plate of steaming cookies in her hands. "Here's some cookies, fresh out of the oven."

Jonathan eyed the plate of cookies hungrily, pleased to note that they were chocolate chip cookies. If there was one thing he loved, it was a good chocolate chip cookie. He watched the plate travel across the room until—much to his horror—Mrs. Mackenzie set the cookies in front of Rosalie. "Don't be shy now, Jonathan. Your mother says you love chocolate chip. Help yourself," she said happily, already turning to leave the room.

The boy stared unhappily at the plate's new location, debating on whether the cookies were worth the trouble of crossing the room and placing himself in Rosalie's immediate vicinity. He loved chocolate chip cookies, but he was not about to risk his sanity to get them, he decided resolutely.

…But…they smelled so good…

His resolve was wavering when Rosalie popped into his immediate line of sight, carrying several cookies in her hands. He jumped in surprise, but before he could say anything she held the cookies out to him. "If they're your favorite cookie, you should have some," she said firmly. "Mummy wouldn't poison them, and her cookies are yummy!"

Jonathan hesitated a moment longer before he took the small pile of cookies from her hand and bit into one without hesitation. He already felt a contented smile creeping onto his face as he chewed the cookie; this was almost perfect. The edge was not too hard, the middle of the cookie was soft but not gooey, and the chocolate was melted to that perfect degree. There was something indescribably wonderful about biting into a chocolate chip cookie and tasting the different flavors as they melded effortlessly into one taste.

He blinked when he heard a startled gasp and he looked down at the slightly shorter girl, whose blue-gray eyes were wide. A blush was visible on her face and her eyes were practically glowing, he noted with a bit of alarm. "What's wrong now?" he asked guardedly.

"You really are cute," she said faintly, and then—to his great consternation—she instantly hugged him. He dropped the cookies in his hands out of surprise, a blush of his own on his face; the only girl who had hugged him was his older sister, and he simply was not used to hugging another girl.

"Let go of me!" he snapped at last, trying but failing to pry her off of him. "I'm not a doll!"

"I know that, silly," said Rosalie, releasing him and looking up at him. "But you were smiling and I couldn't help it—you were so cute!"

"For the last time, I'm not cute," he said with weary resignation, bending down to pick up the fallen cookies from the floor. Inspiration hit him at that moment and he looked over at Rosalie with a wicked grin. "And if you call me cute again, I'll call you Rosie."

Rosalie didn't even pause. "Then I'll say you're handsome, which means that you can't call me Rosie," she said cheerfully, picking up one of the stray cookies and handing it to a flabbergasted Jonathan before she skipped over to the couch and flopped on it.

Jonathan looked at the cookies in his hand before turning his incredulous gaze back to Rosalie. He inwardly debated with himself for a moment before he sighed and trudged over to the couch, sitting on the floor and reaching for the plate.

The only reason he was over here was for the cookies, Jonathan told himself firmly. It had nothing to do with Rosalie; he would tolerate her for one night, and then it would be over and he wouldn't ever have to deal with this weird girl again. Just because he was sitting next to her didn't automatically mean that one day they would get married.

That was just silly.


	71. How They Met: Part III

_Here's the third and final part to this mini-arc!_

_Quick and final note: "Trevalier" is pronounced tray-vah-lee-eh; you'll understand why I have it here once you start reading._

_Again, this is pre-canon, but it's also the last part :D_

* * *

Lilith had not visited London for two years, but she had already forgotten how rainy it was.

She looked out from under the awning with a rueful gaze, wishing that she had remembered to bring that umbrella Edith had offered; her sister was still inside at the party they were attending, establishing connections and receiving congratulations for her engagement to Pierre. Lilith was happy for her younger twin, since she seemed genuinely happy with Pierre.

Edith had brought it to her attention that she had left a pair of earrings at the hotel suite they were staying at, so Lilith had volunteered herself to retrieve them. Right now, however, she wished she had brought some form of protection against the weather—the silk dress she was wearing was certainly not water-friendly.

Maybe she should brave the elements and hail a taxi, she thought as she looked into the street. The busboy had not been at his post, so Lilith could not get to the car they had ridden over in, and it was a limousine; she wouldn't be able to drive it herself. But then what? Even if someone saw her and stopped, she would still have to go out into the falling rain; her dress would get ruined, and while she didn't mind it too much her mother and father would.

"You look as if you're in a spot of trouble," said a deep voice, the tone filled with amusement.

Lilith was not sure who had spoken until she remembered that there was a gentleman that had been standing beneath the awning before she had gotten there, most likely trying to find a way to move through the rain. She turned to face him, taking in his appearance with a little more detail.

The well-dressed man was much taller than she was, with broad shoulders and an obviously tailored suit to accommodate his muscular body, but he carried himself with refined gentleness and it put her at ease. His brown hair was swept back out of his face, and his hazel eyes were gazing at her with a mixture of humor and an emotion Lilith could not quite identify. "Is there something I could do to help?" he asked her, the tell-tale English accent evident in his words.

"I'm afraid I need to return to our suite to get a pair of earrings for my sister, but I was not counting on it raining," she replied, gesturing to her dress. "I have no umbrella and the busboy vanished."

"I see. That is a problem indeed," he said, looking out into the rain. "Is it possible that your sister could do without the earrings? This rain has been falling since I got out here, and that was ten minutes ago."

"They are a gift from one of the guests in the party, and though they have not arrived yet my sister would like to show gratitude to them for their gift—the earrings were given in honor of her recent engagement," replied Lilith.

"I extend my congratulations to your sister," he replied distractedly, eyeing the rain a moment longer before he shrugged himself out of his jacket. "Would you hold this for me, Miss…?"

"Trevalier. Lilith Trevalier," she said, taking the jacket from him with some confusion. "What is it you plan on doing?"

"Well, my dear, someone needs to get you in a taxi and back to that hotel. And you obviously cannot step out beyond this awning, for you would ruin that lovely dress you are wearing. So, since I_ am _a gentleman, I'll hail a taxi for you," the man said in a business-like manner.

Before Lilith could argue he had stepped out into the rain to travel to the roadside. Within minutes he had a taxi pulled up to the curb, and he briefly ducked inside the vehicle to speak to the driver before he stepped out once again and returned to the awning. "There we are, Miss Trevalier," he stated cheerfully. "Your chariot awaits."

"You didn't need to go to the trouble, _monsieur_," Lilith began apologetically, but the man held up a hand in good humor.

"No need to fret, my lady. My hair and suit will dry in no time at all; however, you seem to be much more beautiful when you are not drenched to the bone, so if you would hand me my jacket I will get you out to the taxi," he replied.

Lilith thought that he had been joking until she noticed that his hazel eyes were quite serious; he meant exactly what he said. She slowly handed him the jacket, and felt surprised when he carefully draped it over her head. "I apologize if your hair ends up a little flat, but I believe it is a fair trade," he said.

She took a brief moment to bend down and gather the bottom of her dress up, so as not to allow it to touch the wet pavement, before she stepped out into the rain. The gentleman followed her out, going ahead to the car door and opening it. "Watch your head, my dear," he said, waiting until Lilith was entirely inside before taking back his jacket and shutting the door.

Lilith watched him return to the safety of the awning, realizing too late that she had forgotten to ask for his name as he ducked back inside the building. Lilith gave the taxi driver the address of the hotel, her thoughts revolving around the gentleman even as minutes later they pulled up to the hotel and the valet came up with an umbrella to escort her into the hotel.

He was well-dressed and he certainly seemed to possess the manners of a higher class family, not to mention he had gone back into the building where the party was…perhaps he was a guest there? But no, surely she would have seen him in the crowd before when she had first arrived; someone of his size would not be easy to forget.

She was still mulling over these thoughts when, after she had taken up Edith's earrings and an umbrella, she returned to the taxi. When they arrived once more to the party, Lilith reached inside her clutch to pay the taxi driver.

To her surprise, he declined. "The gentleman already paid for your fare, ma'am," he said with a smile. "He told me that you were in need of returning to the party inside as quickly as you could, and that you couldn't delay."

Lilith hesitated for a moment before stepping out of the taxi and opening the umbrella, shutting the car door behind her as she walked forward. She waved to the taxi driver as he drove off, but her thoughts were still surrounding the gentleman and his kindness when she walked into the building.

"Oh, Lilith! There you are!" cried a familiar voice, and she turned in time to see Edith hurrying toward her. "Do you have the earrings?" she asked anxiously. "Pierre's friends just arrived, and I've managed to keep out of sight, but he'll be expecting me to wear their earrings."

"Of course I do, Edith," Lilith replied with a smile, holding the small box up for her sister to see.

"What would I do without you, Lilith?" her sister said, taking the box from her and already opening it to put the earrings inside on. "Father's on good terms with that family; I would hate for that to discontinue."

"I don't think they would hate you forever if you forgot a pair of earrings," chided Lilith as they walked back into the ballroom.

"True…but it is the proper thing to do when one gives you a gift," said Edith distractedly, already scanning the crowd. "Ah, there he is. Lilith, if you need me I will be with Pierre."

Lilith watched her younger sister disappear into the crowd, and as she was about to follow after her a deep voice stated, "I see you made it back to the party all right."

Lilith jumped, whirling around to face the gentleman with a startled expression on her face. As he had predicted earlier, there was no evidence that he had stepped out into the rain at all; his hair and clothes were dry once again. "Forgive me for scaring you. I was beginning to worry that something had happened to you, but then I saw you and your sister enter the room and I knew that all was well."

He bowed from the waist gracefully. "I did not get to introduce myself earlier. My name is Robert Knighton," he said, straightening up.

Lilith could not help but smile at him. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Monsieur Knighton. I must thank you for your earlier kindness."

"It was no trouble. I like to think that chivalry is not quite dead yet," Robert replied with a smile. The look vanished to be replaced by a serious one. "But I'm afraid that I really must impose a fee for my services," he continued as music began filtering through the air.

"Oh?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes. I would like a dance with you, if it is not too hefty a price," he replied with a smile, holding his hand out to her.

"I believe that is something I can afford, _monsieur,_" Lilith said playfully as she allowed him to lead her out to the dance floor.


	72. Lightning and Needles

_Er…I have no clue where this came from. I blame this on my unofficial beta and my own experiences with the subject discussed in this shot._

_Post-DOOM, set after Alister's arc, and good luck guessing the speakers!_

* * *

"It can't be that bad—"

"They miss the vein every time. I refuse to go."

"…I didn't think you would be the one to be afraid of a simple shot."

"It's not just one simple shot, as you put it. It's three shots and blood work. There's no way on this earth you're getting me to go."

"Oh come on. Don't tell me you're afraid of needles?"

Silence.

"I don't believe this. I thought Valon would be afraid of getting shots, but _you_? This is surreal."

"I am not afraid of needles; the shots don't hurt me until later. I just don't like the doctors poking around my arm trying to find my vein when it comes time for them to draw my blood. Do you have any idea what it's like when they miss and jab the wrong place? It _hurts_."

"I wouldn't know. They never miss mine when they do blood work on me."

"Of course not. Apparently they can see your vein just fine. Mine on the other hand seem to _magically_ disappear every time they start taking blood."

"That's not true—"

"'Nurse, you see that blue line in his arm that looks like a vein? I don't know what it is, but whatever you do don't stick the needle in there. It could be catastrophic; let's draw blood from around that blue line instead, it couldn't possibly hurt him.'" The sentence was spoken with barely concealed irritation and his words were heavy with sarcasm.

"Are you even listening to yourself right now? You sound just like a petulant child…wait, are you seriously _pouting_? You've even got your arms crossed. I can't believe it. This isn't normal behavior, coming from you."

An exasperated sigh. "When it comes to doctors and blood work everything goes, and I do not sound like a child. I am perfectly justified in not wanting a doctor to stick a needle in my arm, since they never do it right and I end up in pain later. Not to mention that afterward I get woozy and can't walk around that well; I won't be able to do anything for the rest of the day."

"Is that a subtle request for one of us to go with you and drive you back home?"

"…Possibly."

"Come on. Think of Valon. You have to set an example for him. If he sees you balking like this there is no way we're ever going to get him into a doctor's office, and then he'll get sick from some disease that could have been cured had he gotten his shots."

A dry scoff. "That's highly unlikely. Besides, even if I don't like shots or blood work I know better not to let Valon see my discomfort. If he does it takes forever to convince him that doctors are not secret sadists and that they are here for the betterment of mankind. It's bad enough whenever he has to go to the dentist."

"So you're going?"

"…You know, I just remembered something important that came up at—"

"You are not weaseling out of this one. You will go to the doctor—out of all three of us you're the one who needs to go the most."

"I do not. My health is just as normal as both yours and Valon's."

"Ah ha ha ha haah…oh wait, you're serious."

"I'm perfectly healthy at the moment and I see no need to go."

"You never put up this much of a fuss when it comes to a physical. You just go and do it."

"They don't try their hand at acupuncture in a physical and they don't do blood work then either."

"They won't mess up this time; not every doctor misses the vein. You just seem to have rotten luck, is all. I'm sure that this time it'll be different."

"I can assure you that they'll miss this time too."

"…I'm assuming this irrational fear stems from when you had to do this back in DOOM or from when your family doctor messed up. I certainly never saw you act up like this in DOOM."

"That's because you never really paid attention; you were always in and out pretty quickly. And my concern isn't irrational, it's common sense. If it hurts to get it done then don't do it."

"Look, this isn't DOOM, this is the present. You are going to the doctor's office tomorrow (don't you _dare_ schedule any last minute errands) and getting that blood work done, and that's that. They won't miss it this time."

"If you're wrong then you get to do the house chores for a week."

"You're on. Lightning doesn't always strike in the same place twice, and not every doctor's visit will result in a missed vein and subsequent pain. You'll see—your fears are _completely_ unfounded."

* * *

Alister glared balefully at the older blonde as he buckled his seatbelt but said nothing as Raphael gingerly mirrored his movements, careful not to jostle his arm in the slightest. When the burly man was in the car he turned the vehicle on and slowly backed out of their parking space, choosing to ignore the reproachful look being directed at him as he focused on his task—he had to, since his arm was still in the cast and he was driving one-armed.

The slender redhead waited until they had pulled up to a stoplight before he finally said in exasperation, "All right. You were right, I was wrong. To be fair, though, your arm is really thick. No wonder they have trouble finding the vein."

"They still missed," Raphael said bluntly, examining the three bandages that hid the marks where the needle had missed its target; that was not counting the three on his other shoulder from where his shots were. "I hate getting blood work done. I really do."

"And now I understand why you despise it so much," Alister said, glancing at the Band-Aids with a grimace. "That looked painful. I'm surprised you didn't jump and run from the room when they nailed you the second time."

"Years of practice have taught me well, Alister. By the way, no matter how much pity you show me you're still doing the house chores for a week. A deal is a deal."

Alister said nothing, but it was quite evident he had hoped the blonde would have forgotten about that. As the light turned green he looked over at Raphael. "You better hope lightning doesn't strike you, because with your luck you'd get hit twice."

"…I'll keep that in mind."


	73. Vaccinations and Oatmeal Baths

_Talk about spontaneous :D_

_I've kinda given up on asking my bunnies where they get their ideas. They just give me things and I write them. I don't even offer them any money or carrots—they just throw out their ideas from their bunkers and they call it a day. _

_Post-DOOM and Alister still has his cast - but it will be gone soon. Promise._

* * *

"AAGGHH!"

Raphael immediately woke up when the horrified yell came through his door, rolling out of bed entirely and very nearly concussing himself on the nightstand. He let out a restrained snarl of pain when his arm hit the side of the mattress; it was still rather sensitive from where the doctor had taken his blood and jostling it was not a good thing.

Misa, who had been curled up on his chest, also woke up with a startled yowl as she flew through the air. At the last second the blonde managed to catch the airborne feline with his good arm and gently set her down beside him on the floor. "Sorry, Misa," he said hurriedly as he tried to disentangle himself from the bedsheets, ignoring the baleful glare that the cat was giving him.

He finally succeeded and got to his feet, slightly stumbling but able to get to the door without any further injury. He stepped out into the hall, not bothering to hide his concern as he began walking. That was Valon's voice he had heard, and usually when there were screams involved it never boded well for the rest of them.

He was almost to Valon's room when Alister, clad in a pair of gray sweatpants and a t-shirt, materialized in the doorway and swiftly stepped out in the hallway to purposely move in front of him, effectively blocking Raphael's path. "You. Banned from Valon's room. Don't even think about going in there," he said bluntly.

Raphael stared blankly at the younger man. "I'm sorry?" he asked at last, trying to frantically process the information being presented him as he made to step around Alister.

The redhead smoothly stepped in his way once more. "You are hereby banned from going into Valon's room," Alister said flatly. "His room is officially a quarantine zone, and you are not allowed in there without wearing a haz-mat suit."

Raphael's sleep-filled brain processed Alister's words and after a few seconds had passed he expressed his inner confusion with an eloquently thought out response: "…Huh?"

"It turns out that he isn't up to date on all his vaccines. Somehow, someway, Valon has managed to catch the chicken pox," the redhead said flatly with a noticeable scowl. "DOOM apparently forgot to give him that one."

"'s not my fault tha' the doctors f'rgot 'bout it!" Valon's voice responded with panicked frustration. "'ow was I s'pposed t' know I needed tha' one?"

"Simple: _you ask_," Alister snapped, turning to look into Valon's room and presumably at the now bed-ridden individual. "Better yet, you warn us in advance so we can get you vaccinated and things like this don't happen."

"I'm not the one who does tha'! I jus' do wha' the doctors tell me to! They never said I needed one!"

"How is that possible? You barely had any medical records when Dartz brought you in to DOOM. They wouldn't just let you waltz around without knowing if you had vaccines, especially since we frequently went out of the country!"

Raphael chose this moment to wake up entirely and enter the heated conversation. "Generally, children get vaccinated when they're eighteen months old," he said with a frown. "The Angliss' may not have done too much in the parenting category, but Valon's records show that he did get the chicken pox vaccine then. Even that isn't enough to stave off the disease entirely, though—sometimes vaccines just don't work and a few people still get a mild case of it anyway."

"…There are days, Raphael, when I wonder if you helped write the dictionary."

The older blonde shrugged. "Something similar happened to my father once. He had gotten the vaccine when he was two years old, but when I was eight he got the chicken pox."

Alister studied the older man for a moment before he asked, "Have you caught the chicken pox before and have you had the vaccine?"

Raphael blinked. "No and yes?" he offered with a confused expression.

"Right then," Alister said firmly, "Knowing your luck when it comes to health-related issues, your vaccine's not going to help you here. Keep out of Valon's room."

"Oh c'mon, Alister. It can' be tha' bad," the Australian said, poking his head out of his room as he scratched idly at his face.

Raphael could see a few of the angry red spots on his face that were no doubt scattered on the rest of his body, but he did not get a good chance to look closer because Alister had grabbed his uninjured arm and yanked the older man with surprising strength back away from the teenager.

"Valon, for the love of all that is good in this world please stay away from Raphael," he said. "He has enough issues with colds, and the last thing he needs is a severe breakout of the chicken pox."

"'ave you 'ad it b'fore, Alister?" the brunette asked curiously, beginning to scratch at his arm.

"I have, actually. That's why I'm not so worried about me going into your room. Scratching them makes it worse, Valon, so quit it," the redhead stated as he folded his arms. "You'll only cause them to spread."

"But they itch," the Australian whined, beginning to scratch in earnest. "I can' 'elp it!"

Raphael shook his head wearily as he made his way back to his bedroom. "I'll get dressed, and then we can go to the pharmacy," he said with a yawn.

"Don't you have work today?"

"I did, but I'm using one of my sick days today," he said simply, gesturing to where he had received the shots. "Sometimes when I get shots I have really bad side-effects, so I'm taking a day off."

He glanced at where Valon was now scratching with renewed fervor, his eyebrows raising in interest. "Besides, I think Valon is in some desperate need of Benadryl and a bottle of calamine lotion."

"An oatmeal bath wouldn't go amiss," the younger man said thoughtfully.

"There's no way you blokes are gettin' me into a bathtub full o' oatmeal!" Valon yelped, an indignant scowl appearing on his face. "No way no 'ow!"

"It's either that or you scratch yourself bloody and gain unsightly scars that will undoubtedly drive Shizuka away from you," said Alister with a careless shrug.

"Your call," Raphael responded as he looked at the now scowling teenager.

Valon folded his arms and glared at his older friends. "'ave told you tha' you fellas are –"

"'Bloody evil'?" chimed two voices in unison.

"…Yeah, that."


	74. Something Is Not Right

_My bunnies are on a roll with anything to do with doctors, it seems._

_I was watching TV when this bunny struck and it asked, "Hey, how come Raphael gets sick so easily? Is there an explanation?" As a result of my musings I have this particular shot. On a note, Ms. Clavelle is from a book/series called "Madeline"; hopefully you all are familiar with her._

_Pre-canon, set in Raphael's childhood, and yes it's kinda like the Madeline book. My bunnies didn't see it any other way._

* * *

Lilith later reflected that what had happened to her eldest son correlated strongly with the events described in Sonia's favorite book; the young girl loved listening to her mother read _Madeline _out loud before she went to bed, and the story had been read countless times.

The whole mess had started when she had abruptly woken up in the early hours of the morning (or was it late hours of the night) and realized: "Something's wrong."

Lilith frowned at the early hour of the morning the clock was displaying, reaching for her nearby bathrobe and slipping it on as she got out of bed; since Robert was visiting his parents in London this week she was here at the manor herself, looking after the children and keeping the house in order. The rest of the family would have gone with him but Julien had been threatening to catch a cold, and London's weather would have done him no favors.

Lilith rose to her feet slowly, trying to determine what that steadily overwhelming instinct wanted her to do. She couldn't pinpoint what was wrong, but it was something important and it was enough to get her into the hallway. Once there, she hesitated as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, her frown deepening as she grew uneasy.

Maybe she would check on the children, she decided. She would just take a peek in their rooms and see if they were all right. She was probably being silly, but it never hurt to check…after all, she was the only parent in the house and the maids had gone to bed already. She was up and about anyway—why not just put her unease to bed and be done with it?

Lilith briefly ducked into Julien's room first, since that was closest. She had trouble navigating through the clutter on the floor, but she still managed to get to his bed and smiled when she saw the four year sleeping soundly, his thumb in his mouth.

She then went to Sonia's room and, upon finding nothing amiss in her daughter's room, decided to go check on Raphael next. Her eldest son hadn't been feeling well at dinner; the poor child had barely touched anything on his plate and upon further investigation was found to have had a slight fever, so she had sent him to bed early.

The blonde Frenchwoman got to Raphael's closed bedroom door and opened it, taking care not to step too loudly into the room as she made her way to his bedside. She had no need to worry about stepping on things in the dark—unlike his younger siblings Raphael was a tidier child, keeping things out of the way and off the floor so as not to step on anything in the event he needed to get up in the night.

Lilith was about halfway to the bed when she first heard the muffled whimpers of pain that were steadily getting louder, and her earlier uneasiness returned in full force as she quickened her pace. She reached for the barely visible outline of the bedside lamp and turned it on, looking at her son with open concern. "Raphael, sweetheart, are you all right?"

The blonde haired child was faced away from her and curled on his left side in a tight ball, holding his stomach. His eyes were screwed shut and he was horribly pale save for an unhealthy flush in his cheeks. "Mama, it hurts," he wailed in pain, hissing as he tried to curl up into a tighter ball.

Lilith sat herself on the edge of the bed, putting the back of her hand against the child's forehead. The slight fever had shifted into a full-blown one, she noted with increasing alarm. "What does?" she asked then, forcing her tone to stay even.

"My…my stomach…it hurts…it _really _hurts…"

Lilith frowned, gently taking hold of her son's folded arms and lifting them away from his stomach. "Let me see," she said, lifting Raphael's night shirt to check for any injuries.

Her blue eyes narrowed at the red and angry-looking patch of skin that ran from his navel to his right side, and she gently prodded it; the skin was inflamed and hot to the touch. Maybe it was a bump from where he had run into something while playing with Sonia and Julien—

But the moment his mother's fingers touched the raised skin Raphael violently flinched and he honestly screamed with pain, curling up even tighter and starting to cry. "It hurts, Mama! Make it stop!" he sobbed, burying his face in the pillow.

Lilith felt her heart sink at his reaction. Something was genuinely wrong with her son; she did not want to say anything aloud because she was not entirely certain of herself and to say anything would scare Raphael, but if this was what she thought it was they would have to make a trip to the hospital. Normally, she would not be so concerned over a severe stomach-ache, but that same instinct that had pulled her out of bed was warning her not to dismiss this and to take the boy to the hospital.

She carefully and gently moved Raphael into her arms, positioning his head so that it rested on her shoulder; at the same moment she reached for a blanket and wrapped it around him. His arms went over her shoulders, his fists clenching almost immediately at the material of her robe as his body trembled with suppressed sobs. "It's all right. We're just going to go see the doctor and he'll make it all better," she said in a soothing tone as she rose to her feet, keeping Raphael in her arms.

She took a moment to adjust his weight before she padded quickly and quietly out of the room; Lilith was not as tall as Robert, but she was still able to carry the eleven year old in her arms. One of the maids who lived on the upper floor must have heard Raphael's scream, because she was waiting in the hall with concern. "Is everything all right?" asked the other woman when Lilith got to her.

"I'm afraid not, Elsa," the petite Frenchwoman replied, identifying the woman as the children's nanny. "I'm going to need the car brought around, and I need you to look after Sonia and Julien."

The older woman's brown eyes landed on the child in her arms. "Why, what's happened?" she asked in concern.

Raphael's grip tightened and despite his best efforts a strangled scream broke loose.

"Elsa, please," said Lilith firmly, making certain her voice was kept calm and soothing. "Go get John up and then keep an eye on Sonia and Julien. Hurry along now—we need to go see the doctor."

The maid didn't say another word, instead moving down the hall to disappear down the stairs. Lilith, still maintaining her grip on her son, went back to her room briefly to grab her purse and hastily put on a pair of shoes before she stepped back into the hallway.

By the time she got to the front hall John was standing at the door, murmuring something to Elsa. The butler only needed to take one look at Lilith before he slipped outside to open the car door for her. Carefully, she maneuvered herself into the car and slid across the seat; she took care not to jostle the boy in her arms too much, but despite her efforts his body shuddered and he whimpered again.

"John, off to the hospital, if you don't mind," she said with barely concealed concern as Raphael let out another frightened sob of pain and burrowed his head into his mother's shoulder. "I believe that time is of the essence here."

* * *

"It's a good thing you brought him when you did," said the doctor in a low voice, conscious of the sleeping boy in the hospital bed. "If it had gone on any longer things would have been much worse. As it is, your son is going to have to stay here for at least twenty-four hours before we let him go home."

"But he'll be all right, won't he?" asked Lilith wearily, glancing toward the bed with lingering concern.

"Of course," replied the doctor soothingly. "He'll be a little more susceptible to catching things now, since he no longer has his appendix and it is a part of the lymphatic system. Other than that he should have no long-term effects. He should be completely back to normal by next week if he gets some rest and stays quiet."

Lilith thanked the man quietly and as he left she moved a nearby chair close to the bed, looking at her son with relief. He was sleeping peacefully at the moment, showing no sign of the distress he had been through hours before; it was only six in the morning, but it was so hard to believe that three hours ago she had been asleep. She was grateful for whatever instinct had roused her and had insisted on checking up on Raphael.

Lilith yawned, her eyelids drooping as she watched her son, and after spending another forty-five minutes trying to stay awake she found that the task was getting difficult. Despite her efforts she found herself beginning to doze off and she decided to just rest her eyes a bit…

When she opened them again it was because she heard the low murmur of voices outside the hospital room. Lilith yawned, glancing first at the clock to note the time (now around nine-thirty, she realized with surprise) before her blue eyes went to the bed, noticing that Raphael was still sound asleep. A good thing in her opinion—the poor child needed it after what he'd been through.

She gently brushed his hair flat on his head once again and he stirred briefly, his eyes slipping open wearily. "M'ma…?" he asked with groggy confusion.

"Shhh, dear heart. Go back to sleep now, you're all right," she murmured reassuringly. "You've had a rough night and you need to get some rest. I'll be here when you wake up."

Raphael nodded drowsily, his eyes closing in compliance at her suggestion. No sooner had he dropped off to sleep when the door opened behind her, but Lilith did not turn around; the nurse had probably returned to check up on Raphael's condition, she figured. She hoped the nurse wouldn't wake her son up for any tests.

But when a pair of warm and strong arms wrapped themselves around her she jumped in surprise, looking up into a pair of familiar and worried hazel eyes. "Robert?"

"I heard from Elsa," the taller man said tersely. "I called the house at seven to let you know I was coming home later on today, but she told me you and Raphael were at the hospital and I figured I best get home as quickly as I could; I already checked on Sonia and Julien and they're fine, although they're worried about you both. Are the two of you all right?"

Lilith leaned into her husband's embrace. "We're fine, Robert," she said, making certain Raphael remained asleep. "They had to take out Raphael's appendix, but as long as he gets some rest he'll be just fine. Raphael was awake just a minute ago, but I don't think he's going to wake up again for a while."

She felt some of the tension leave his shoulders at her statement, and he remained silent for a few minutes as he rested his chin on top of her head. "For some reason, having a woman clad only in her robe and nightgown telling me about my hospitalized son is far more comforting then the doctors," he said quietly at last, his tone betraying his relief.

Lilith laughed softly in spite of her weariness. "The next time there's a life-threatening emergency involving our children I'll be sure to wear more fashionable clothes," she said wryly.


	75. Pixie Stix

_ have my brother to thank for this one._

_I know I have work to do, but my plot bunnies decided to revolt; they threw off the chains of school and demanded that I keep going. They like to wait until I actually don't need or want them, and then they pounce…a__nyway, there are two movie references in here. Find them and win cyber cookies!_

_During DOOM, set sometime after "Caught in the Current" and thanks to everyone who's been reviewing!_

* * *

"Wha' 're those?"

Raphael jumped in surprise as Valon easily leapt over the back of the sofa, folding his legs beneath him and looking curiously at the plastic bag the older man was holding. "I 'eard the doorbell ringin' earlier. Who was it?"

"No one we know, obviously. Otherwise they'd be in here," Alister stated boredly without looking up from his book.

Valon scowled at him. "Wasn' talkin' t' you any, Alister," he said, folding his arms. "I was askin' Raph 'bout the door. And the bag 'e's 'oldin'. No one wants t' talk t' you."

"Good. Last thing I need is to answer dumb questions."

Raphael rolled his eyes. "Don't start another argument, please. I'm off duty as a referee until tomorrow morning," he said flatly.

He carelessly tossed the bag onto the coffee table, where it slid along the surface until it bumped into Alister's water glass. "To answer your questions, Valon, a door-to-door salesman was the one who rang the doorbell. He was trying to sell us a vacuum cleaner, and to try and tempt me he gave me some Pixie-Stix; I'm guessing he was going to pour it on the carpet and use the vacuum to clean it up."

"Undoubtedly, though, Gurimo would go ballistic if he found out we let a complete stranger into the house and that we would let him mess up his perfectly clean floor. He'd claim that it was a spy and the next thing we know he'd turn us into the housemaids, complete with frilly white aprons," said Alister, finally looking up from his book to look at his two companions.

"…What a lovely thought, Alister," Raphael said with a grimace at the mental image. "Anyways, I sent him on his way, but he forgot to take his candy with him. So does that answer your ques…tion…Valon?"

The Australian had an almost reverent look on his face as he stared at the bag of Pixie-Stix that lay on the table. To be honest, it was rather disconcerting to look at.

"Valon?" the older blonde ventured cautiously, exchanging a slightly worried glance with Alister when the teen did not respond.

"Candy?" Valon's voice came out haltingly, as if he could hardly believe that he was being graced with such a concept. "Tha' man gave us free candy? We c'n eat it, and 'e won't get mad?"

"He left it here, so I don't see a reason why he would…wait a moment," Raphael said with a frown. "You're looking at that bag as if you'd never seen candy before."

"I 'ave, but 've never eaten any," Valon said in a rather dreamy voice, gazing at the bag with a longing look that honestly was beginning to disturb both of his older companions. "Mother Mary never got candy, 'n' I never 'ad a chance to eat any 'cause…well, I couldn' afford any."

Raphael frowned at that, glancing at the bag of Pixie-Stix where it sat on the table top. He had never really been one for sweets, but even he had sampled candy before; Sonia and Julien had been all for it, but after his aunt had slipped him a rather bitter-tasting chocolate Raphael no longer held an interest in eating sweets.

Alister's head turned a fraction to look at the door with narrowed eyes at a rumbling sound from outside. "The garage door just opened. I think we can assume that Gurimo's back."

After debating one more moment the older blonde sighed, picked up the bag with one hand, and tossed it lightly over to Valon, who was startled to see the bag coming at him and barely managed to catch it. "I don't eat sweets, and Gurimo's not going to allow them to stay here long. Take it upstairs before he gets in here and don't let him find it," he said simply.

Valon stared up at the older blonde with the same awe-struck and reverent expression that he had been giving the bag of Pixie-Stix, and Alister was quite certain that Raphael had just gained an ally for life. "You're my 'ero," he said faintly, before he grabbed the bag of candy and sped from the room to take shelter upstairs.

Alister watched him go with raised eyebrows. "You do realize that we're probably going to regret doing that later, right?"

Raphael shrugged. "What else are we going to do with it?"

The redhead frowned. "If he hasn't been introduced to sugar before he's going to bounce off the walls once he ingests those Pixie-Stix."

"It can't be that bad of a reaction. He'll probably have a small buzz, but I don't think it'll be anything we need to worry about it."

* * *

"AHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!"

"YOU PUNK! GIVE ME BACK MY MONOCLE!"

Valon grinned madly, Gurimo's missing monocle placed over one of his eyes as he stood on top of the overturned sofa. He took a moment to adjust the blanket wrapped haphazardly around him before he struck a pose. "Now, I demand that you bring me…a _shrubbery!"_ he proclaimed slowly and dramatically, blue eyes glinting insanely; it was the first coherent sentence he had managed in ten minutes.

"You miscreant! I won't say it again!" Gurimo snarled, leaping at the teen. Valon adroitly stepped aside with all the grace of a mountain goat navigating on a mountainside, causing Gurimo to end up sprawled on the ground and howling in pain.

"Youfailgeezmateyouneedt'takeballetb'causeyou'reclumsy," the teen sang cheerfully, actually cart-wheeling down the hall and miraculously avoiding tripping on the blanket he was wrapped in. As he regained his feet he pulled a part of the blanket over his head and reached for a book.

"Pieiesudominedonaeisrequiem," he monotoned with all the speed of a chipmunk who had ingested coffee, whacking himself with the book as he scrambled away. He cackled maniacally as Gurimo chased after him. "Tha'swha'youwouldasaidifyou'adgottenthepartehKuriboh?"

"You BRAT! You broke my monocle!"

"Gotothewashedupbutlerstore'n'getanewone!"

Alister and Raphael watched the chaos ensue from their current position in the corner of the room, taking refuge behind one of the chairs. "A small buzz, huh?" Alister asked sarcastically, keeping a wary eye on Valon's progress.

"For the record, I didn't say he should eat all of it at once," Raphael replied irritably, ducking as a book flew through the air and hit the wall behind him.

"I don't suppose this house has a secret bomb shelter that until now we knew nothing about?" Alister asked.

"Does the hall closet count?"

"…It'll do."

* * *

_Field Guide for Valon's High-On-Sugar dialogue:_

_"Youfailgeezmateyouneedt'takeballetb'causeyou'reclumsy,"= "You fail geez mate you need to take ballet b'cause you're clumsy."_

_"Pieiesudominedonaeisrequiem,"= "Pie iesu Domine Dona eis requiem."_

_"Tha'swha'youwouldasaidifyou'adgottenthepartehKuriboh?" = "Tha's wha' you woulda said if you 'ad gotten the part eh Kuriboh?"_

_"Gotothewashedupbulterstore'n'getanewone" = "Go to the washed up butler store 'n' get a new one!" _


	76. Too Blind To See It

_…There are days…_

_While trying to write out a couple requests my bunnies came up with this and would not stop doing their ritualistic carrot dance until I agreed to write it. Believe me, my bunnies are rather annoying when they want to be; I even threatened to blow them away with a shotgun, but did they listen? No._

_During DOOM and it's in anime-verse (but not actual canon)._

* * *

It was the barely audible voice that dragged him out of the cold and dark void his mind had been thrown into when he had lost his soul to the Orichalcos. The only reason he had responded at all was because it was a voice, which was a vast improvement to floating aimlessly in the silent void; he would have liked to nap a little longer.

"…alon…?"

No, he wanted to sleep more. Bugger off.

"Can…hear me…?"

What part of _bugger off_ did this bloke not understand? He wanted to sleep, thank you kindly.

"…alon…waking…?"

Abruptly he recognized this voice, he realized, and he struggled to return to consciousness. It was one he had not thought to hear again, especially since he was almost certain that he should be dead by now. At last he succeeded in forcing his eyes open and he looked around him.

The background around him had no immediately defined features; all it seemed to be was a mixture of reds and blacks, which were actually quite soothing to his tired mind. He tried to stretch but found that the effort wore him out; it seemed that any sort of motion in this place, including thinking, cost him valuable energy. He also noted that he was trapped in a bubble of sorts, with very little stretching room. Oh goody.

"It seems you're awake," said a tired-sounding voice wearily, and he looked around until his eyes landed on another bubble. He received another surprise when he recognized the inhabitant.

"Alister? You're alive, chum?" he asked with surprise.

The redhead shoved his apparent weariness away long enough to give him a scowl, his gray eyes flashing briefly in the dim light. "It would appear so, Valon," he said flatly. "Seeing how as I haven't seen the Pharaoh float by yet I think we can assume that we're safe for the moment, but who knows how long that's going to be. You've been out for a while now, but you haven't missed anything."

The Australian nodded absently. "I wouldn' think a place like this's got much f'r us to do," he stated, looking around him as he sat cross-legged inside his bubble. "'ey, you see anyone else we know?"

Alister folded his arms with another scowl. "Plenty of people. I seem to be near an entry point in this place; a lot of people I don't know keep drifting by. Gurimo floated by earlier, ranting and raving about how our ultimate purpose is about to be fulfilled and how we will help save the world from itself. It might be me, but I think this place is detrimental to his sanity."

"Kuriboh wasn' all tha' sane t' begin with," Valon joked.

A faint smile touched Alister's features before his smile disappeared and he looked back at Valon. "Who did you lose to? Jounouchi?"

"Yeah," he replied, remembering the duel with a rueful grin. "One o' the best fights I ever 'ad."

"I saw him drift by here earlier, as well as Miss Loud Mouth," Alister stated with a frown, gesturing in a vague direction. "He must have lost a duel sometime after you got here."

Valon sighed, leaning back inside the bubble. "Mai…I guess 'e didn' beat 'er then. But you said you saw 'er too?" he inquired. "'ow'd she get 'ere?"

"In case you haven't noticed, Valon, I'm not up to date on current events. I've been trapped inside a bubble for roughly twelve hours," Alister deadpanned.

"…'ow do you know tha'?"

"Lucky guess. I counted the seconds before you woke up; not much else to do here, really."

Valon shook his head with an amused grin before a thought struck him and he looked over at Alister. "Wha' 'bout Raph?"

Alister shook his head mutely, gathering his strength before he managed to say, "I haven't seen him yet. I don't _want _to see him, either."

Valon bristled, but before he could voice his indignation Alister continued wearily, "If he's out there, then at least one of us gets out of being turned into some ancient beast's dinner. It means that he's all right, and at this point that's all I'm really concerned about."

The Australian made his exhausted mind work long enough to put together Alister's words, and it sobered him when he realized the full implication behind them. "We're gonna die pretty soon, aren' we?" he asked softly after a moment's pause.

Alister said nothing, but the look in his gray eyes confirmed Valon's grim sentence.

"…Ah…well, y'know somethin'? I 'ope we don' see Raph either," said Valon with forced cheerfulness. "Tha' bloke don' need t' get killed. 'e's a decent 'nough fella, 'n' it's prob'ly for the best…right?"

After that they occassionally started idle conversations about random topics, but they never lasted long and for the most part they remained silent, too tired to really think straight.

Some time later, an odd flash caught Valon's attention and he blinked, staring at the round and glowing bubble with apparent confusion. "Wha' is—?"

"That's another poor fool who's gotten caught," Alister said quietly, frowning intently to see if it was another person he knew. "I told you, where we are is an entrance to this place; this is where souls start out before they drift off somewhere."

Alister began to feel a certain dread when the light started to dissipate and he could see the silhouette of the person trapped inside—speak of the devil and it will appear, he mused wryly. In spite of his determination not to care he silently hoped that it was not who he thought it was inside the bubble, that it was some random person who had a similar body build…

Valon, however, confirmed the redhead's fear with a startled, "Raph!"

The lanky biker felt his heart sink when his eyes confirmed the older blonde's presence inside the new bubble. Raphael was not moving at all, still dazed from the pain of having his soul torn out of his body; Alister knew that it would be a few minutes before Raphael would respond to either of his companions, though Valon had probably been worn out from the duel he'd had with Jounouchi earlier. He felt slightly guilty for being glad to see Raphael here—at least they would all go out together, he thought morbidly.

But to his surprise Raphael recovered within seconds, looking around him wildly in confusion…wait. No, that was not right…it was almost as if he was looking for someone—but who? He caught a glimpse of Raphael's eyes and felt something hard settle in the pit of his stomach when he saw the myriad of emotions blazing in those dazed eyes: anger, hatred, betrayal, hurt, bitterness…something had happened.

Valon must have picked up on Alister's uneasiness, because instead of a boisterous greeting the Australian timidly called out, "Raph?"

The blonde started with surprise, looking at both of the younger bikers as some of the tension in his shoulders disappeared; Alister noticed that relief mingled itself into the mixture of emotions that Raphael was currently feeling, but he still did not immediately say anything and the redhead's worry did not dissipate.

The brunette had taken courage when Raphael had finally noticed them. "'ey chum. Long time no see," he began with the shadow of a grin, still uneasy about Raphael's current emotional state.

Raphael cut across him with a quiet and deliberately calm statement. "He did it."

Alister's eyes narrowed, while Valon blinked bemusedly. "Wha'?" the Australian asked at last. "Wha're you talkin' about, Raph? Who did what?"

Maybe the Pharaoh had won, thought Alister, but then he frowned when he remembered that if that had happened they would not even be here. The Pharaoh would have forced Dartz to release all the trapped souls if he had won. Who was Raphael talking about, then?

"He did it. He did _everything_," the burly man said with a strangled but angry voice, and there was no mistaking the furious snarl in his words. "He did it all and we were too _blind _to see it!"

Alister stared, shocked by the amount of fury Raphael was displaying. In all of his years at DOOM and with working around Raphael, the older man had never been this visibly angry; he got irritated, sure, but never had he openly displayed his temper like this. Not once.

Alister officially did not like where this conversation was going.

"Raphael, what are you talking about?" he asked, trying to keep his uncaring mask in place. "Speak logic, please."

The older blonde let out a laugh that was a combination of hysteria and bitterness. "Dartz. Dartz did everything," he said, and Alister could hear the raw betrayal and hurt in his voice. "He brought us together for a reason."

"We know tha'—"

"_No you don't_," Raphael snarled ferociously, and Valon shrank back with a surprised gasp. "Neither of you know because you got here earlier. I didn't know either—but now I do. Dartz was the one who ruined our lives. He was the one who killed our families, and everything he's ever told us are nothing but lies_!_"

Alister felt as if he had been punched in the stomach. _"_He _what?"_ he asked, fury dispelling the exhaustion and beginning to cloud his vision.

"The tank explosion that killed your brother, the fire that destroyed the church with Mother Mary inside, the underground volcano that sank the ship I was on…Dartz had a hand in all of it," Raphael concluded bitterly, some of his anger vanishing to be replaced with almost tangible grief and pain. "We were nothing but pawns, and to get us he destroyed our lives."

Valon's eyes had darkened with pain and anger at Raphael's words, and the brunette was not looking at them anymore; Alister suspected that the Australian was crying, but he was not close enough to tell that for certain. The teenager also seemed to be mumbling rapid fire curses directed at Dartz that would make even a drunken sailor ashamed with a thick, tear-filled voice.

Alister wanted to honestly punch something. His fists clenched angrily and he found that there was a strange lump in his throat as his eyes burned…no, he was not going to cry here, even though this would probably be the last chance for him to do so before the Leviathan killed them all.

Several tense and silent moments passed before Valon looked back at his older companions. "Y'know wha', fellas?" he asked with forced calm, tear tracks visible on his face.

Raphael and Alister looked back at him mutely, both too overwhelmed to say anything.

"I really 'ope tha' the Pharaoh kicks Dartz's sorry arse," the teen growled, his eyes glittering with savage fury. "'Cause if 'e doesn' I'll find a way t' get out o' 'ere and kick it myself."

When Valon spoke at that moment, he spoke for all three of them.


	77. A Little Theatric?

_Yay! I can look at a computer screen again!_

_Thanks to a copious amount of cold medicine and Tylenol, I can somewhat function and type out a plot bunny. It hit me last weekend right before I got sick, when I was watching the dub version of episode 145 ("A New Evil"). I couldn't help but laugh when I heard the dialogue exchange between Yugi and the bikers. It's a little short because I'm still sick, but I hope you all enjoy it!_

_Obviously during DOOM and set in canon :D_

* * *

"Wait a minute. Does someone want to explain why, exactly, do we need to say all of this?" Alister asked in irritation, looking at a rather crumpled piece of paper. "We're the ones in charge this time, so why are we still listening to Gurimo and actually doing what he says?"

"Because he's still our superior," said Raphael wearily. "Master Dartz told us that we still need to obey what he says, regardless of who's in charge. Look, this is the last time we need him on a mission before we can go out on our own; just put up with it until this is over with."

"But c'mon, mate. This is jus' plain stupid," Valon said exasperatedly, holding up a piece of paper and waving it in front of the older blonde. "'ave you even looked at what Kuriboh wants you t' say yet?"

"Not really, since all I've been doing is listening to you two complain about it," Raphael deadpanned, watching the front of the Kame Game Shop; it was just about time for the man Gurimo had deployed to sneak in and take the god cards. "And don't talk so loud. For all we know the Pharaoh or one of his friends could be running around here somewhere."

"For once I agree with Valon," said Alister in disgust, staring at his own paper. "It's annoying, to say the least. Mine is all the generic evil crone, typical villain speech, but this is a stretch even for…oh good grief, he's even told us to do an evil laugh as we're returning to the construction site. This is degrading," he snapped, a scowl crossing his features.

Raphael briefly turned his head at that, finally reaching into his pocket to retrieve the piece of paper that Gurimo had given him. He scanned the contents of it, his eyebrows quirking at the written text. "I do have to admit that this dialogue is weird," he said, beginning to frown. "He clearly wanted us to be on the dramatic side when the Nameless Pharaoh finally sees us, but…I think it's a bit…"

"Forced?" Alister supplied flatly. "Theatric? Ridiculous? Awkward? I could keep going if you want me to."

Valon reached across his motorcycle to snag the piece of paper from Raphael's now slack hand and read it, an incredulous look crossing his features. " 'It's only fair to warn you that we've been known to fight dirty…' you can' be serious. Raph, you can' even tell a li'l white lie. You're lucky we're gonna be blindin' the blokes and your 'elmet's gonna be coverin' your face; you couldn' delib'rately cheat to save your life."

"…I'm assuming that's a compliment."

Alister glanced at the muscular blonde. "I think Gurimo gave you the awkward sounding dialogue on purpose."

Raphael sighed, looking back over at the red-haired biker. "Not everything Gurimo does is designed to make our lives uncomfortably miserable, Alister."

"No? Name one time that he's done something for our benefit. While you're on that, name another time he's not called us some demeaning and derogatory name and list one more instance that he's been nice to us," Alister replied crossly. "Then I'll believe you."

Raphael opened his mouth to reply but a movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he looked over in time to spot a black clad figure disappear into the front entrance of the store. "Heads up, you two. Plan's in motion," he said brusquely, reaching for his helmet and putting it on over his head. "Get ready to move."

Valon let out a displeased sound as he pulled his goggles down over his eyes. "Do we really 'ave t' say all this garbage?" he asked unhappily. "Kuriboh wouldn' 'ave t' know; i's not like 'e can read minds."

"Knowing him, he's got us wired somehow," Alister said as he adjusted his grip on the handlebars. "He'd know we didn't do it, and then he'd find some way to punish us—or worse, he would tell Master Dartz that we 'deliberately' disobeyed an order and then we'd be stuck doing paperwork for the rest of our natural lives."

"…Is it wrong t' 'ope 'e loses against the Pharaoh?"


	78. A Brief Overview of the Valon Unit

_I bumped into several other stories that are similar to this one, and all of a sudden my bunnies begged for me to write one of my own; I did have a list of the authors who wrote similar stories, but I lost it and all I can say is that the concept is not mine. I had written this one out last week, but I never got the chance to post it since I got sick and I couldn't look at a computer at all._

_Er…I guess you can say this is post-DOOM…not really sure how to classify this one. _

* * *

Thank you for your purchase of the "Valon" unit from KoK Incorporated! If you are looking for a child model, please return to the catalogue and order the "Street Urchin Valon" unit or the "Toddler Valon" model.

The model will be shipped to you as soon as humanly possible since this particular unit is quite popular; we will send you a notification by email when the unit has been shipped. Please read this basic overview about the model you have purchased so that you are prepared when the model arrives or if you need to refund it:

_**Basic Information:**_

**Model Name:** Valon  
**Gender:** Male **Height:** 5'9''  
**Weight:** Classified; this information will become available when you receive your certificate of purchase in the mail.  
**Eyes:** Cerulean Blue; turns red in Orichalcos Mode.  
**Hair:** Brown, star-shaped, and rather poofy.

Your model will arrive with (1) Orichalcos Stone ring, (1) pair of elbow pads, (1) pair of knee pads, (1) pair of shoulder pads, and (1) pair of goggles. As seen in the show, your unit will be wearing the outfit of a dark red tank top, dark pants, and boots when it arrives. Please note that any other modifications to his wardrobe will have to be provided by you; also note that he does _not _come with his motorcycle and you must purchase this separately.

WARNING: Valon units are not compatible with "Dartz" units and/or "Gurimo" units and will fight with them aggressively. It is in your best interest to avoid placing your Valon unit in the same vicinity as either of these models, since reprogramming the units to get along with each other generally does not work; if you have either of these models you may want to consider refunding your Valon unit.

_**Return Policy:**_

In the event that your unit comes to harm KoK Inc. technicians have installed your Valon unit with a memory card made of an indestructible alloy. Simply remove the card from your unit (located on the back of the neck) and mail it to KoK Inc. We will provide you with a new model and ship it to you free of charge.

The memory card also transmits data to our supercomputer in KoK Inc. headquarters; in the improbable event that the memory card is destroyed technicians will be able to download all of your unit's previous data and will ship a new model back to you free of charge.

NOTE: this policy is subject to change given the circumstances behind the return of your unit, since technicians review the memory card to determine the cause of the malfunction.

* * *

_**Operational Modes:**_

Your Valon unit will have two modes of operation and unless you seriously mess with something in the programming will not deviate from these behaviors:

**—_Normal Mode_:** Your Valon unit is a boisterous and playful model that likes to play pranks and drive its motorcycle; it is an overall friendly model. It will be serious on occasion and can have a slight temper problem, but a simple reprimand will suffice in diffusing the problem. In this mode your unit will make decisions that make logical sense to its programming but it should be noted that these decisions are not always the best course of action for it to take. Though not required, the purchase of a "Raphael" unit might keep your Valon unit semi-under control.

**—_Orichalcos Mode_:** Your Valon model becomes more reckless, more dark and evil, and also much more violent; its eyes will take on a red hue and its actions become very dangerous. This mode can only be accessed when equipped with its Orichalcos Ring (included with purchase). It is not recommended to keep your Valon unit in this state, as it may result in the loss of your soul and/or the loss of several other souls, as well as the eventual self-destruct of your unit.

When you first receive your Valon unit it will be distrusting of you and your surroundings since it will not know who you are. This is to be expected from it, so give it a few hours. It will warm up to you by the end of its first week with you and will be more open and friendly. For more benefits, please refer to the manual that will come with your model.

Your Valon unit responds to vocal commands, but it should be noted that any shouted command will result in deliberate disobedience and/or makes it argumentative. The technicians at KoK Inc. are still working on this problem—if you cannot deal with the Valon unit and you have to yell at it constantly, it may be in your best interest to get a refund.

All models sold by KoK Inc. are self cleaning and come with a newly installed eating function, so you will be asked to provide it with food. Certain foods are to be kept out of reach of your Valon unit; a more detailed list will arrive in the manual provided with your unit when it arrives at your doorstep.

* * *

_**Frequently Asked Questions:**_

**Question: Can I get rid of those tacky goggles my Valon unit is wearing?** **Answer:** I'm afraid not. Your Valon unit views these as a trademark signature and most likely will not surrender them willingly. Reviewers of the product have told us the Valon unit does get violent if his goggles are removed.

**Question: If my Valon unit misbehaves can I lock it in a closet until it stops disobeying me?** **Answer:** NO. Studies have shown that the Valon units have claustrophobia issues and locking them in small, dark places will result in its immediate shutdown and, if left in there too long, will self destruct. If you try to send in your Valon unit for repairs and the technicians find that you locked it in a closet, you will not be allowed to get a refund or an exchange.

**Question: I want my Valon model to love my "Mary Sue" unit! How do I get it to notice her?** **Answer:** It has been shown through extensive research that the Valon unit will not easily respond to custom models unless it is reprogrammed; there will be a manual that comes with your unit when it arrives and it further elaborates on this topic. Please note, however, that the Valon model responds better to the "Mai Kujaku" unit and/or the "Shizuka Kawai" unit.

**Question: I want to dress up my Valon unit so that it blends in more with the public. What clothes will it wear and how do I change its hairstyle? Answer: **Technicians at KoK Inc., as well as customers, have found that your Valon unit prefers its hair the way it is and will get quite embarrassed and/or indignant should you mention that its hair needs a different style. Your Valon unit also will wear anything _within reason,_ provided that it matches with its personality programming. It will not wear anything inappropriate for any reason—forcing it into something it doesn't want to wear may inadvertently trigger its Orichalcos Mode.

**Question: What if my Valon unit commits a crime and gets sent to jail?** **Answer:** Fortunately this won't happen. The Valon unit comes with a pre-programmed fear of ending up back in jail and will stay within the lawful boundaries of your city/state (please note, however, that your Valon unit may not acknowledge its normal programming in its Orichalcos Mode).

**Question: Does my Valon unit have a Punk Mode?** **Answer:** The Valon model responds very well to bands such as Green Day and Linkin Park, and should you let certain behaviors become habits the Valon unit will adopt a punk-like attitude. However, there is no official Punk Mode in its programming.

**Question: Can I make the Valon unit my boyfriend? Answer: **Unfortunately not. Valon units are specifically programmed to respond only to other units, not to human beings; you can claim him to be your boyfriend if you wish, but the Valon unit does not respond to human advances.

**Question: Can I get my Valon and "Alister" units together as a couple? Answer: **KoK Inc. does not support any yaoi-based programming, and if the models are rewired in this regard they will immediately self-destruct. There will not be an exchange or refund available should you try this maneuver with your units and they explode.

* * *

_**Troubleshooting Your Unit:**_

**-I have no idea what I did! One minute my Valon unit was munching on some leftover candy from Easter, the next it was running around the room and speaking almost impossibly fast! What happened?**

Oh dear. Due to a recent error in the programming, Valon units do not have a very high sugar tolerance and will bounce around hyperactively if too much sugar is consumed. Unfortunately, you will have to wait until the sugar buzz wears off before your Valon unit returns to normal. It will be for the best if you monitor its sugar intake in the future; for an extra price you can buy a specially made wristwatch that warns you if your Valon unit is ingesting too much sugar or caffeine.

**-Help! My Valon unit keeps trying to attack my "Jounouchi Katsuya" unit!**

Your Valon unit may be in the Orichalcos mode, at which point your Valon unit will attack any "Jounouchi Katsuya" model in the area. IT IS HIGHLY RECOMMENDED THAT YOU KEEP THESE MODELS APART FROM EACH OTHER IF YOU LEAVE YOUR VALON UNIT IN THE ORICHALCOS MODE. In general, however, your Valon model will not get along with your "Jounouchi Katsuya" model and it is a wise idea to keep the two separated unless you reprogram both units to get along.

**-My Valon unit keeps looking around for its "chums" and it's acting really depressed. What's wrong with it? **

Valon models generally need to be purchased with a "Raphael" unit and/or an "Alister" unit; your Valon unit is probably lonely and needs its friends to feel happier. This may not always be the case, as you may have a "Shizuka Kawai" model or a "Mai Kujaku" unit already in possession, but it is recommended for optimal performance that you have at least one of the previously mentioned units.

**-My Valon model keeps claiming it needs to save the Digital World and keeps asking for an Agumon (whatever that is), but it doesn't seem like there is anything wrong with it. I even checked my candy stash and it hasn't had any!**

Have you checked to make sure you did not purchase the "Tai Kaimiya" model from the Digimon branch of KoK Incorporated? It is a common mistake that shoppers tend to make on a daily basis, since the "Tai Kaimiya" unit's hair and goggles are commonly mistaken for that of the Valon unit. Talk to Customer Services for an exchange if this is the case.

* * *

If there are any further questions you may have about your Valon unit, contact the number you received when you were sent your receipt and request for the appropriate department as directed. We are glad for your purchase, and have a nice day!


	79. A Brief Overview of the Raphael Unit

_There were several requests for this one, so it was only natural that I complied; there's one more coming after this shot._

_Er…I'm still not really sure how to classify this type of chapter…let's just call it post-DOOM and leave it at that. _

* * *

Thank you for your purchase of the "Raphael" unit from KoK Incorporated! If you are looking for a younger looking model, please return to the catalogue and order the "Island Castaway Raphael" unit or the "Toddler Raphael" model.

The unit will be shipped to you as soon as humanly possible; we will send you a notification by email when the unit has been shipped. Please read this basic overview about the model you have purchased so that you have a basic idea of what to expect from your unit or if you feel like you need to refund your purchase:

**Basic Information:**

**Model Name:** Raphael  
**Gender:** Male  
**Height: **around 6'3"  
**Weight:** Classified; this information will become available when you receive your certificate of purchase in the mail.  
**Eyes:** Blue; turns red in Orichalcos Mode.  
**Hair:** Short, cropped, somewhat spiky blond.

Your model will arrive with (1) Orichalcos Stone pendant, (2) small silver earrings (located on left ear), (1) deck of Duel Monster cards, (1) pair of fingerless gloves, (1) hunting knife, and (1) purple duster. As seen in the show, your unit will be wearing an outfit of a tan tank top, dark pants, and hiking boots when it arrives. Please note that any other modifications to its wardrobe will have to be provided by you; also note that it does _not _come with its motorcycle. However, a motorcycle is not necessary for its performance as your unit also has the ability to drive a car.

WARNING: Raphael units are not compatible with "Dartz" units, "Mai Kujaku" units, and/or "Gurimo" units. Though you can reprogram your Raphael unit to tolerate the presence of a "Mai Kujaku" unit, it will not be reconciled with "Dartz" units and/or "Gurimo" units; if you have either of these models you may want to consider refunding your Raphael unit.

**Return Policy:**

In the event that your unit comes to harm KoK Inc. technicians have installed your Raphael unit with a memory card made of an indestructible alloy. Simply remove the card from your unit (located on the back of your units left ear) and mail it to KoK Inc. We will provide you with a new model and ship it to you free of charge.

The memory card also transmits data to our supercomputer in KoK Inc. headquarters; in the improbable event that the memory card is destroyed technicians will be able to download all of your unit's previous data and will ship a new model back to you free of charge.

NOTE: this policy is subject to change given the circumstances behind the return of your unit, since technicians review the memory card to determine the cause of the malfunction.

* * *

**Operational Modes:**

Your Raphael unit will have three standard modes of operation and unless you seriously mess with something in the programming will not deviate from these behaviors:

**—_Normal Mode_:** Your Raphael unit is a quiet, intelligent, and friendly model, preferring to read a book if it gets bored; it also is rather partial to cats. Raphael units have been known to become somewhat brooding as time goes on, but this can be rectified with the purchase of a "Valon" unit and/or an "Alister" unit. Raphael units make wise decisions that rarely backfire, so you can count on your unit making the right choice in certain situations; Raphael units are also very obedient and will obey most commands within reason. Although somewhat forbidding looking, your Raphael unit is very gentle-natured and docile and does not generally display its temper.

**—_Orichalcos Mode_:** Your Raphael unit's eyes will turn red, and its behavior turns very dark, angry, and it becomes very dangerous. This mode can only be accessed when equipped with its Orichalcos Stone pendant (included with purchase). It is not recommended to keep your Raphael unit in this state, as it may result in the loss of your soul and/or the loss of several other souls, as well as the eventual self-destruct of your unit.

**—_Guardian Mode:_ **Your Raphael unit tends to look after anything smaller, weaker, and/or younger looking, and in certain instances your Raphael unit will keep a watchful eye on whatever fits one or more of the previously stated criteria. This mode can be accessed by the purchase of a "Valon" unit and can be reprogrammed to work in certain situations (i.e. babysitting younger siblings).

When you first receive your Raphael unit it will be silent and wary of you and your surroundings, though it will occasionally ask questions about its new home. This is to be expected from it, so give it a few hours. It will warm up to you by the end of its first two days with you and will be more open and friendly. For more benefits that your Raphael unit will bring, please refer to the manual that will come with your model.

Your Raphael unit responds almost immediately to vocal commands and it is very obedient. However, if you give it orders that contrast its programming it will either cause your Raphael unit to look blankly at you or your unit will not obey the order and stubbornly refuse to do so.

All models sold by KoK Inc. are self cleaning and come with a newly installed eating function, so you will be asked to provide it with food. Raphael models will not eat seafood or any shellfish, so please be certain to eliminate such foods before your unit arrives; a more detailed list of food preferences will be given along with your unit when it arrives.

* * *

**Frequently Asked Questions:**

**Question: Will my Raphael unit let me sell the Duel Monster cards it has?** **Answer:** You can sell the cards and your unit will not overly protest, but we recommend that you keep any Guardian cards (i.e. Guardian Eatos). Raphael units become despondent and moody if the Guardian type monsters are sold and its performance will drop.

**Question: If I get sick and my parents can't write an excuse for me, can I use my Raphael unit to send in an excuse?** **Answer:** For legality issues, we recommend you establish with your parents/legal guardians whether or not your Raphael unit should act as a substitute parent should they be unavailable.

**Question: I want my Raphael unit to like my custom model! How do I get it to notice her?** **Answer:** It has been shown through extensive research that Raphael units are fairly receptive to female custom models, though they do not respond to any advances by "Mary Sue" models; more information on this topic will be available with your manual. Please note that Raphael units will NOT respond to "Mai Kujaku" units in any romantic fashion.

**Question: Can Raphael units get sick? Answer: **Technically, our units do not catch human illnesses. However, Raphael units have minor issues in their programming that occasionally allow them to display cold symptoms and a decrease in performance. If this is the case, take your Raphael unit to a nearby KoK Inc. retail store and our technicians will fix the faulty programming. DO NOT TAKE YOUR UNIT TO A DOCTOR.

**Question: What about my Raphael unit's knife? Can I unequip it from my unit?** **Answer:** Of course. Raphael units will obey most commands and in fact does not really care one way or another if you do not equip certain items with your unit.

**Question: I have a "Yugi Mutou" unit, as well as a "Pharaoh Atemu" and a "Yami Yugi" unit. How will my Raphael unit react to them?** **Answer:** Research has shown that Raphael units act indifferently around most models, and this includes any version of the "Yugi Mutou" unit. However, if your Raphael unit is in Orichalcos mode it is highly recommended that you keep all versions of the "Yugi Mutou" unit away from your Raphael unit until it calms down. This problem is easily rectified if you do not allow your Raphael unit to keep its Orichalcos Stone pendant.

**Question: Can I give my Raphael unit a different set of earrings? Answer: **Our technicians have found that Raphael units will exchange their earrings for others, but this list is extremely limited and it will not wear large hoops, dangling earrings, or any earring obviously intended for a girl; it also will not wear plugs in its ear. For a more detailed list, refer to the owner's manual that will arrive with your unit.

**Question: Can I detach my Raphael unit's sideburns and use them as weapons? Answer: **...No.

**Question: Can I get my Raphael and "Dartz" units together as a couple? Answer: **_ABSOLUTELY NOT_**. **Your Raphael unit does not tolerate "Dartz" units in the slightest and will act uncharacteristically violent around them, resulting in it switching into its Orichalcos mode and remaining there until the "Dartz" unit is gone. Besides,KoK Inc. does not support any yaoi-based programming, and if the models are rewired in this regard they will immediately self-destruct. There will not be an exchange or refund available should you try this maneuver with your units and they explode.

* * *

**Troubleshooting Your Unit:**

**-What on earth is going on with my Raphael unit? It keeps acting so sluggish when it boots up in the morning, but it performs better as the morning goes on! Why is it doing that?**

Raphael units are sluggish in the morning when they reboot because their programming takes an unusual amount of time to boot up after it enters sleep mode; our technicians are still working on fixing these errors. In the meantime, a cup of black coffee will suffice in reenergizing your Raphael unit.

**-I have a "Gurimo" unit and a Raphael unit, but they were working fine together until recently. Now my "Gurimo" unit is acting really aggressively around my Raphael unit. What happened?**

As earlier stated, "Gurimo" units are not compatible with Raphael units; Raphael units generally dislike "Gurimo" units but otherwise can function around them. "Gurimo" units, however, have a part of their programming that causes them to become unstable and abruptly snap, and they have a rather bad habit of destroying Raphael units. You may have to return your "Gurimo" unit and reconsider keeping one in the vicinity of a Raphael unit.

**-My Raphael unit is acting really moody and has turned very pessimistic. What happened?**

Several causes could be behind your unit's sudden shift in behaviors. One cause could be that it has lost one of its Guardian cards. Check its Duel Monster deck to make certain it has all of the following cards: Guardian Grarl, Guardian Kay'est, Guardian Elna, and Guardian Eatos. If none of them are missing, try buying it a motorcycle; if you cannot afford one call Customer Service and KoK Inc. will gladly send you a motorcycle free of charge, since this error happens quite frequently. The most likely cause, however, is that your Raphael unit is lonely. Purchasing a "Valon" unit, an "Alister" unit, and/or a female custom model will likely solve your problem.

**-My Raphael model keeps lifting weights and if it sees a helicopter it runs at it and starts shouting with this weird accent! What on earth happened to it!**

Oh dear. It seems you have inadvertently purchased an "Arnold Schwarzenegger" unit. This happens frequently since customers sometimes mistake the appearance of a Raphael unit with the previously mentioned model. Talk to Customer Service for an exchange of the unit in question.

* * *

If there are any further questions you may have about your Raphael unit, contact the number you received when you were sent your receipt and request for the appropriate department as directed. We are glad for your purchase, and have a nice day!


	80. A Brief Overview of the Alister Unit

_Here's the last of the "Unit" shots!_

_I'm going to go ahead and continue updating for as long as I can; I have ingested Tylenol and a whole bunch of cold meds, and I'll continue to try and work on shots to post. I won't promise anything but sporadic updates after this one until I can look at a computer screen without having to dose myself on meds._

_Same category as the other two!_

* * *

Thank you for your purchase of the "Alister" unit from KoK Incorporated! If you are looking for a younger looking model, please return to the catalogue and order the "War Refugee Alister" unit or the "Toddler Alister" model.

The unit will be shipped to you as soon as humanly possible, since this model is fairly popular; we will send you a notification by email when the unit has been shipped. Please read this basic overview about the model you have purchased so that you have a basic idea of what to expect from your unit or if you feel like you need to refund your purchase:

**Basic Information:**

**Model Name:** Alister  
**Gender:** Male  
**Height:** around 6'0''  
**Weight:** Classified; this information will become available when you receive your certificate of purchase in the mail.  
**Eyes:** Gray; turns red in Orichalcos Mode.  
**Hair:** Red, shaped somewhat like a mushroom

Your model will arrive with (1) Orichalcos Stone pendant, (1) pair of arm sleeves, (1) black duster, (1) pair of sunglasses, and (1) charred toy soldier. As seen in the show, your unit will be wearing an outfit of a lavender midriff-baring tank top, dark pants, and boots when it arrives. Please note that any other modifications to its wardrobe will have to be provided by you; also note that it does _not _come with its motorcycle. However, a motorcycle is not necessary for its performance as your unit also has the ability to drive a car.

WARNING: Alister units are not compatible with "Dartz" units, "Mai Kujaku" units, "Seto Kaiba" models, and/or "Gurimo" units. Though you can reprogram your Alister unit to barely tolerate the presence of a "Seto Kaiba" unit and a "Mai Kujaku" unit, it will not be reconciled with "Dartz" units and/or "Gurimo" units; if you have either of these models you may want to consider refunding your Alister unit.

**Return Policy:**

In the event that your unit comes to harm KoK Inc. technicians have installed your Alister unit with a memory card made of an indestructible alloy. Simply remove the card from your unit (located on the back of its neck) and mail it to KoK Inc. We will provide you with a new model and ship it to you free of charge.

The memory card also transmits data to our supercomputer in KoK Inc. headquarters; in the improbable event that the memory card is destroyed technicians will be able to download all of your unit's previous data and will ship a new model back to you free of charge.

NOTE: this policy is subject to change given the circumstances behind the return of your unit, since technicians review the memory card to determine the cause of the malfunction.

* * *

**Operational Modes:**

Your Alister unit will have two standard modes of operation and unless you seriously mess with something in the programming will not deviate from these behaviors:

**—_Normal Mode_:** Your Alister unit is an aloof, sometimes cynical, antisocial model, rarely interacting with other units and tending to keep itself isolated when it can; Alister units also are partial to shows pertaining to crime scene forensics and mystery novels. Your unit is very secretive and does not like being pestered with too many questions. Alister units have a dry sense of humor and make logical decisions that very rarely backfire. Although it does act stoic your Alister unit will eventually warm up and is a loyal companion once it gets used to you.

**—_Orichalcos Mode_:** Your Alister unit's eyes will turn red, and its behavior shifts into a reckless, angry, and homicidal rage. This mode can only be accessed when equipped with its Orichalcos Stone pendant (included with purchase). It is not recommended to keep your Alister unit in this state, as it may result in the loss of your soul and/or the loss of several other souls, as well as the eventual self-destruct of your unit.

When you first receive your Alister unit it will be silent and will completely ignore you and your surroundings. Out of all units sold at KoK Inc., the Alister unit is one of two models that may take several weeks for it to acclimate to you; the other one is the "Seto Kaiba" unit. It will warm up to you within a maximum of one month. For more benefits that your Alister unit will bring, please refer to the manual that will come with your model.

Your Alister unit does respond to vocal commands, but it may not immediately respond and may not obey you for the first few months of ownership; Alister units are rather independent and generally have issues listening to authority figures. However, the purchase of a "Raphael" unit may help it acclimate to you faster.

All models sold by KoK Inc. are self cleaning and come with a newly installed eating function, so you will be asked to provide it with food. Please be certain to buy your Alister unit shampoos/soaps/toiletries that are designed for men, as it will shift into Orichalcos Mode if you give it something obviously designed for a girl. A more detailed list of personal preferences will be given along with your unit when it arrives.

* * *

**Frequently Asked Questions:**

**Question: That toy soldier my Alister unit has is broken and ugly. I want to fix it so it's newer looking. How do I get my Alister unit to leave it alone?** **Answer:** You can't. Alister units highly treasure the charred toy solder it comes with and will shift into Orichalcos mode without warning if you try to take the toy soldier from it. It may be ugly to you, but your Alister unit values it highly and its performance will drop if you take it from your unit.

**Question: Can my Alister unit fly an aircraft like it can in the show?** **Answer:** Yes. Your Alister unit has the ability to fly a plane or a helicopter and can be programmed to fly one. However, for legal reasons we ask that you refrain from trying to make your unit fly a commercial airliner without previous permission from the proper authorities. We also recommend you take away its Orichalcos Stone pendant, as it has been shown that certain stimuli cause your Alister unit to shift into Orichalcos Mode when it is flying a plane.

**Question: I want my Alister unit to like my custom model! How do I get it to notice her?** **Answer:** Unfortunately, the Alister unit very rarely will respond to custom units. It is not impossible, however; for the best performance in this regard, we recommend you activate both your custom model and your Alister unit at the same time when your Alister unit arrives at the door. On another note, the Alister unit will not respond to advances by either the "Mary Sue" unit and/or human advances—meaning you cannot make the Alister unit your boyfriend.

**Question: Does my Alister unit have a temper? Answer: **Alister units are generally very stoic and quiet, occasionally making a dry comment or saying something sarcastic. However, certain circumstances will cause your Alister unit to shift into its Orichalcos Mode; a detailed list is included with your unit when it arrives.

**Question: I have a "Seto Kaiba" unit, as well as a "Noa Kaiba" unit and a "Mokuba Kaiba" unit. How will my Alister unit react to them?** **Answer:** Technicians have found that while Alister units strongly dislike "Seto Kaiba" units they will still function normally around them, though there will be a marked increase of visible agitation from both units; we recommend you take away your Alister unit's Orichalcos Stone pendant before you leave both of these units alone. Alister units will act indifferent around "Noa Kaiba" units but will respond to "Mokuba Kaiba" units with the same attitude your "Seto Kaiba" unit displays around "Mokuba Kaiba" models.

**Question: Can I change my Alister unit's hairstyle and apparel? It looks like a mushroom. Answer: **Technicians have found that your Alister unit prefers to keep its hair the way it is and will react negatively if you attempt to change it. As a recommendation we suggest that you avoid calling your unit's hair a mushroom, as this may trigger its Orichalcos mode. In regard to its appearance, Alister units are fairly receptive to clothes as long as they are not obviously intended for a girl but will not get earrings/piercings on any other body part/tattoos.

**Question: Can I get my Alister and "Seto Kaiba" units together as a couple? Answer: **_IF YOU WANT TO LIVE A LONG AND HEALTHY LIFE, DO NOT TRY TO MAKE THESE MODELS A COUPLE_. Alister units and "Seto Kaiba" units have been shown to attack their users and send them to the hospital after their programming has been tampered with in this regard. Besides, KoK Inc. does not support any yaoi-based programming, and if the models are rewired in this regard they will immediately self-destruct. There will not be an exchange or refund available should you try this maneuver with your units and they explode.

* * *

**Troubleshooting Your Unit:**

**-I'm hiding under a couch at the moment because my Alister unit is tearing the place apart looking for me! All I said was that it looked a little feminine and it tried to attack me! What did I do?**

Oh goodness. Alister units despise having their gender mistaken and tend to become violent if you refer to it as a girl; they will also show similar bouts of rage if you call it a Twilight vampire, emo, or refer to it as having yaoi preferences. The best thing you can do for now is wait until your unit calms down and hope it doesn't find you. It may be in your best interest to order a "Raphael" unit to calm it down in the future should you make this mistake again.

**-I want my Alister unit to go to bed at a decent hour because my family goes to bed early and my Alister unit keeps them awake by watching television, but it won't enter sleep mode until two in the morning. Why?**

Alister units tend to have insomnia issues and will not willingly obey your command to enter sleep mode; our technicians are still working on fixing this error but have not made much headway in this area. The best thing you can do is move your television to a different part of the house where it will not disturb your family.

**-I have no idea what I did! One minute I was playing _Call of Duty _on my Xbox, the next my Alister unit spazzed out and ran from the room. What did I do wrong?**

Technicians at KoK Inc. have found that Alister units respond negatively around video games that involve warfare, especially if the game has any visible tanks. Your Alister unit will continue to act distressed and haunted until you turn the game off and reassure it; in the future try not having your Alister unit in the same room as you when you play any violent video games.

**-My Alister unit can shoot laser beams out of its eyes, wears green dresses, and it flies! What on earth happened to it?**

...You can't be serious…oh Lord, you are. I have no idea how you could have made this mistake, but it seems you have purchased the "Buttercup" model from the Powerpuff Girls branch of KoK Incorporated. Talk to Customer Service for an exchange if this is the case.

* * *

If there are any further questions you may have about your Alister unit, contact the number you received when you were sent your receipt and request for the appropriate department as directed. We are glad for your purchase, and have a nice day!


	81. Casts, Meds, and Bumps

_Random inspiration from bunnies is random._

_While on my cold meds I came up with this chapter, and after waiting until my eyes stopped crossing I was able to write it down. Set post-DOOM and if anyone spots random grammar/spelling issues, let me know; cold meds are no fun._

* * *

"Freedom," Alister said contentedly, stretching his cast-free arm gingerly. It felt weird to use it again, but at least his arm was free and the redhead was pleased with this development. "As silly as this may sound, I was beginning to worry I would never see the end of that cast."

Raphael shook his head in amusement as they made their way back to the car. "I was just getting used to it myself," he said, unlocking the driver side door. He grimaced as a thought occurred to him and he looked over at the other man. "Just do me a favor and keep your arm outside of the car. It…well…"

"My arm stinks," the redhead supplied flatly, opening the passenger side door and leaving the door open until Raphael had turned the car on; when the vehicle rumbled to life Alister rolled the window down and draped his pale arm (the cast had not done wonders for his arm's complexion) outside the window. "Trust me. I wouldn't inflict you with such a painful torture. Maybe I would if Valon was in the car."

Raphael raised an eyebrow. "Then it's a good thing he still has the chicken pox, though I hate to admit it. That reminds me, we need to stop by the pharmacy again. Valon needs more Benadryl."

"Does Benadryl make everyone act that weird, or is it just because it's Valon?" Alister asked. "Because I don't think I've ever seen anyone look so drowsy and out of it after taking it."

Raphael waited until he had eased his car out of the parking space before he put it into drive. "Why ask me?"

"Because you tend to have an insane store of random facts that you whip out at opportune moments," the redhead deadpanned.

The muscular blonde shrugged as he pulled up to the stoplight. "It doesn't mean I know everything, Alister," he said, though a slight frown creased his brow. "Some people just react differently to medicine. Valon gets really groggy when he takes Benadryl, but you don't react at all when you take sleeping aids."

"They just don't work on me. I've never really had issues when I go to—wait a minute, how would you know that if I never have taken any sleeping aids in front of you?"

Raphael suddenly seemed to be very intently focused on changing lanes and did not immediately respond to Alister's indignant question. He still kept his eyes on the road even as the red-haired man continued to speak.

"I never take any kind of sleeping pill, not even if I get sick; too many people would think I was suicidal and then I would never get a moment's peace. So how would you know I wouldn't…react to…_Raphael_."

"Before you do anything it wasn't me and it was back in DOOM," the blonde said quickly, noting Alister's dark expression. "Valon wanted to see if you would act up if he put some Nyquil in your hot cocoa. I found out only after you drank it, so I kept an eye on you to make sure Valon didn't overdose you."

Alister paused, his eyes narrowing for a moment. "I always did wonder why that cocoa tasted weird and why you followed me around after that," he said with a sigh. "It's official: I am never again willingly consuming anything Valon makes."

"I'm surprised you remembered that, by the way," Raphael commented wryly, coming to a halt at a stop sign.

"I have a mind like a steel trap. I don't forget things easily," said the red-haired man, tapping his temple with a smirk.

Whatever Raphael had been about to say was forgotten as the car suddenly jolted forward and Alister turned his head sharply, as did Raphael; the older man's eyes briefly flashed with alarm.

"It seems we've just been rear-ended," stated Alister matter-of-factly as he looked at the car behind them. "Cars just don't really seem to like you that much, do they?"

Raphael's shoulders, which had tensed when the other car had bumped them, slowly relaxed and he put on his turn signal. "Ha ha," he retorted, turning into a nearby parking lot. "Do you want to get out?" he asked as he turned off the ignition, opening the door but pausing to get his younger friend's reply.

"I'll wait here," Alister said flatly. "You're better at dealing with these sorts of situations and I'm confident that the other driver won't cause you any trouble—if he wants to all he has to do is look at you and he'll cooperate."

Raphael rolled his eyes as he left, understanding Alister's words to be made in jest. He walked around the side of the car to investigate the crash site, and Alister kept a wary eye on his friend when the blue car that had bumped them pulled up; if push came to shove he would need to be ready to offer assistance.

He relaxed when he saw a casually dressed young woman exit her vehicle and almost immediately began apologizing, running a hand through her short caramel colored hair in agitation; she looked fairly young, probably around Alister's age. She was also quite harmless, he decided as he watched her. Raphael would likely go easy on her, especially since the poor woman looked rather distressed by the whole incident.

Raphael's phone rang and Alister turned his attention to it, noting the caller ID and lifting it up. "He's busy, Valon," he said flatly, leaning back into the seat. "What's up?"

"_When're you fellas…er…when're ya…dang it, wha's tha' phrase…ah. When're you blokes comin' back? 'm 'ungry."_

"Judging by the fact you still sound drunk the Benadryl hasn't worn off yet. We're not too far away; we have to stop by the pharmacy to get you some more Benadryl as well as a few other things, but we'll be back momentarily."

"_Okay…'ey, 'ow's your…your…tha' long thing stickin' offa your shoulder tha' 'as a 'and 'n'…'n' fingers and…stuff?"_

"My arm is just fine, Valon. Go back to sleep," he said patiently.

Valon mumbled a sleepy reply and hung up shortly afterward to take another nap. The teenager did not respond very well to Benadryl, as it slowed his mental processes down and it kept him in a sluggish state, but there was not much else to be done; the Australian would scratch incessantly at his chicken pox if he was taken off the Benadryl, and since the medicine was the only thing keeping him from scratching they had no other choice.

He set the phone back in its previous position and looked in the rearview mirror again, watching as Raphael waved a friendly goodbye to the young woman and came back around to the driver's side of the car. "Put this in the glove box, would you?" he asked, handing a folded slip of paper to him and slipping into the car.

"Damages?" Alister inquired as he opened the glove compartment.

"There wasn't anything apparent, but she still insisted on giving me her number and asked if I would let her know if there was anything I found later," the burly man replied, turning the key in the ignition.

Alister glanced at the name written on the paper before he put it in the compartment. "How did it happen?"

Raphael shrugged absently. "She was taking her dog to the vet and it started barking. She turned around to quiet it, and when she looked around again she realized she was going to hit us."

Alister looked over at the blonde, studying the older man for a moment. "At least this accident was friendlier to you. It doesn't require a visit to the hospital," he commented wryly at last.

Raphael made a face as he started the engine and pulled out to the entrance of the parking lot. "Don't bring that up," he said, merging into traffic after a moment's pause. "You're only going to jinx me."


	82. Accident

_Before anyone asks, my bunnies wouldn't let me write anything else until I got this down._

_Thankfully, it seems my health is taking a turn for the better, but I'm going to be giving it another weekend to be certain. After this weekend, though, I think I'll be totally healthy and I'll be back to posting regular updates once again :D_

_Post-DOOM still. On a note, I may change the title of this chapter later, so don't be surprised if this title name is different than you remember._

* * *

Alister blinked in confusion as his cell phone began to vibrate in his pocket. It took a moment of finagling, since he was currently carrying a fussy two year old boy in his arms, but he managed to reach the device at length and looked briefly at the caller ID. He frowned when he identified the home number; it was odd, because Valon very rarely called the redhead when he was at the family center. Even though Valon was sick and could get bored, he usually bothered Raphael at work rather than call him.

"Valon, what do you—?" he began, but the Australian's voice cut over him, his words rushed and filled with panic.

"_Alister, thank 'eaven you answered. I couldn' get a 'old of Raph…you gotta get 'ome right now 'cause I need you 'n' it was an accident and…and Misa's…oh God…Alister—"_

"Calm down, Valon," Alister said sharply, registering the last part of Valon's sentence. "What happened to Misa?"

"_I swear it was an accident, it 'appened too fast 'n'…Alister, there's blood everywhere, you gotta come 'ome!" _came the teenager's frightened statement, clearly distracted; Alister could hear a low yowl over the phone, presumably from Misa. "_I don' know wha' t' do!"_

"All right, listen," he said firmly. "I'm going to hang up and get someone to fill in for me in the daycare, and then I'm coming home. Stay by the phone and get a hold of Misa; if she's bleeding you'll need to stop it. Don't pull on anything if there's something stuck in her. I'll call back in five minutes."

Alister hung up the phone and strode to the door, looking into the hallway for one of the other volunteers. As luck would have it, he managed to catch the attention of a middle aged woman—his boss—as she was on her way back from her lunch break. After Alister briefly explained that he needed to attend to a crisis at home, the woman stepped into the nursery and allowed him to leave; she watched him leave with a worried expression on her face, bouncing the still fussy child on her hip comfortingly.

Alister dialed the house number as he hurried down the hallway, waiting until Valon's scared voice responded before he said, "Tell me what happened to Misa."

"_I…I was makin' a sandwich, 'cause I was 'ungry 'n' you fellas didn' want me t' cook after wha's 'appened 'n' I didn' want to blow anythin'—"_

_"_Valon, you're babbling. That's not helping."

"_Sorry…Misa…she tried t' get up on the counter, 'cause I was making a chicken sandwich, but I sorta nudged 'er and she lost 'er balance. She dug 'er claws in one o' the towels 'n' there were a whole bunch o' knives on it and one o' 'em…it…" _Valon's voice caught.

"All right, I'm on the way home right now. Do you have Misa?" Alister inquired as he got to his motorcycle.

"_Yeah, but she won't lemme touch her and…and…"_

"Never mind the blood, Valon," he said grimly. "Where's the knife? Is it in her?"

"_I's…No. It's not stuck in 'er, but it cut 'er 'cross 'er chest 'n' she's bleedin' and…Alister, it was an accident, I didn' mean t' shove her off the counter!"_

"I know. I'll be home in fifteen minutes. Don't let Misa out of your sight and don't let her lick the wound. Use a towel and put pressure on the wound; we just did a whole load of laundry, so use one of the towels in there," Alister ordered firmly. "Misa's probably scared out of her mind right now, and you panicking won't help. She needs you to calm down."

"…_I'll try to."_

Alister hung up and pulled his helmet over his head, revving the motorcycle to life before kicking up the break and wheeling it out of his spot. Within moments he was out of the parking lot and heading for home, easily moving through traffic and grateful that he had a full range of motion—there was no way he could have steered his motorcycle with his cast on.

Ten minutes later, Alister unlocked the front door and slipped inside. "Valon?"

"In 'ere, chum," came Valon's shaky voice, and the red-haired man navigated through the hallway to the kitchen. His gray eyes landed on the bloody streaks on the tile and one of the cabinets before they went to where Valon was slumped on the floor, cradling a crudely wrapped and meowing bundle.

He went to the teen, got on his knees, and gently moved the folds of the towel away to peer critically at Misa. The cat's emerald eyes were wide and pain-filled, looking up at him with fear. Blood matted the fur on the left side of her chest, just over her leg; it looked as if the knife had sliced a good deal of her skin, creating a flap that came away and was just barely held on.

"This is what you get for jumping on the counter all the time," he said gently, stroking the cat behind her ears. "You're going to need a few stitches to fix you up."

He looked over at Valon's pale face and said quietly, "Go get Misa's crate and bring it here. She's going to need to go to the vet."

Valon stared back at him, his blue eyes over bright and just as fear-filled as Misa's. "Alister—"

"This is not your fault," he continued, cutting over Valon firmly. "I did dishes last night and I didn't put away the cutlery; if anything, this is my fault. Misa's fine, but I need to take her to the vet and make sure. Give her to me."

Valon nodded hesitantly, carefully handing the bundle to the older biker before he hurried out of the room. Alister reached for a corner of the towel and firmly pressed it over Misa's wound. The cat jerked and let out a meow of protest, briefly struggling.

"I know, Misa," he said soothingly. "It hurts, but you need to sit still, okay? We'll take care of you, don't you worry."

He looked up as Valon came back with the crate and frowned as a thought occurred to him. Valon must have been thinking the exact same thing, because he asked, "'ow're you gonna get 'er t' the vets?"

Alister's eyes narrowed. "…I'll think of something."

* * *

Raphael looked down at where Misa was positioned on his lap, gently petting her under her chin. The feline let out a weak but rumbling purr, emerald eyes closing contentedly as she tilted her chin upwards; she was still rather out of it from the anesthesia, but she was already starting to act like her normal self.

The older blonde glanced up then at where Valon was watching Misa warily, guilt written plainly across his face. He felt a frown make its way onto his features as he looked at the boy. "Valon, it wasn't your fault she got hurt. It was an accident," he said, catching the Australian's attention.

The boy shifted guiltily. "I didn' even realize it 'til she fell off…'n' then she yowled 'n'…" began Valon, struggling to talk but breaking off uncomfortably.

"The vet said Misa only needed a few stitches and that she'll be back to normal in about a week as long as she doesn't lick her stitches," said Raphael, allowing Misa to adjust her position on the pillow before he looked back to the teenager. His eyes softened as he met Valon's gaze. "You obviously didn't plan for her to get hurt. I'm not going to hold you responsible for this; Misa's not supposed to be on the countertops anyway. You were only doing the right thing."

"But if I'd looked where she was 'n' if I'd put the knives up…I shouldn' 'ave jus'—"

Alister scowled at him from over the top of the book he was reading. "For the last time, Valon, it's not your fault. If one of us has to tell you again, I swear I'll beat you over the head with the heaviest book I can find. I'm not even remotely kidding."

Misa sat up a little more and meowed, seemingly in agreement with Alister.

Valon's tensed shoulders eased up slightly as he looked back at his older friends, giving them a small but grateful smile. "Can I…can I 'old 'er f'r a bit?"

Alister rose to his feet and made his way to where Raphael was sitting. "I'll get her over there. You're still not allowed to be anywhere near Valon," he said curtly as he carefully took the edges of the pillow in his hands and lifted Misa, pillow and all, off of Raphael's lap.

Valon scowled as the redhead arrived with Misa, reaching for the cat and bringing the pillow close to him. "I's not like I've got rabies 'r somethin' awful like tha'," he said indignantly. "'m doin' better than I was a couple days ago!"

"You still aren't allowed to go near Raphael," said Alister calmly.

Raphael rose to his feet and started to walk to the kitchen before he paused and looked back at Alister. "Now that the immediate crisis with Misa has been averted, do you mind detaching Misa's crate from the back of your motorcycle?"

Alister grimaced. "Do I have to? It's being held on by a lot of bungee ropes and belts, and it's dark outside."


	83. A Lesson In Articulation

_Yay for being healthy!_

_I'm 85 percent back to normal, but as my luck would have it I have three tests, two of which are major essays. As soon as I finish them I'll be able to devote more time to updates, as well as possible one shots :D_

_This one is set during DOOM and I once again thank everyone for their support!_

* * *

"I've had it!"

This announcement caused all three of the bikers to direct their attention to Gurimo, who was standing in the door of the room with a scowl firmly in place; Raphael and Alister, who had been playing checkers, looked over (well, Raphael did—Alister briefly turned his head before rolling his eyes and returning his attention to the game) and Valon tore his gaze away from the television screen.

"Here we go," Alister sighed, cupping his chin in his hand. "Who's he mad at this time, as if I didn't know?"

"What's wrong, Gurimo?" Raphael asked, watching Alister move his black checker before he looked back to the monocled man.

Gurimo pointed directly at Valon. "I've had enough of trying to decipher what he's saying every time I speak to him! The fake accent's gone on long enough! You will learn how to speak properly!"

This comment made Alister turn fully around in his seat with both of his eyebrows raised. Raphael blinked in confusion, though his gaze went abruptly to Valon, who had been eating some popcorn when Gurimo had spoken; the boy was currently choking on a handful he had just ingested. "What're you on, ya loony? This is 'ow I talk!" he snapped once he had managed to swallow the food. "There's nothin' fake about it!"

A small frown marred Raphael's features. "It's not that difficult to understand," he said slowly. "I don't have that much trouble."

The older man sniffed in distaste. "You defend the boy automatically. Anything you say does not count in this discussion."

Alister returned his attention to the checkerboard. "Can you blame him? You attack Valon any chance you get," he muttered under his breath, scowling as he glared at the checkers.

Gurimo either did not hear Alister or chose to ignore him, because he directed his attention at the teenager and said flatly, "Master Dartz has approved, so as of this moment you are to come with me and I will begin teaching you how to smother your accent."

"Not on your life, chum," Valon snarled, eyes flashing. "'m a genuine Aussie, 'n' I don' need t' sound like a normal bloke."

"When we go on missions, we are not supposed to stand out in the slightest. You, boy, stand out the most out of the three of us; your hair is atrocious looking and you can't speak properly."

"Yeah, because that cloak and monocle you wear blend into society so smoothly, Gurimo," Alister muttered again, and Raphael had to choke back a laugh.

"Oi now, 'old on. Raph 'n' Alister stick out too, so why am I the only one catchin' flak f'r this?" Valon said angrily, gesturing to his older companions. "Raph's really tall 'n stuff, 'n' Alister looks like a…well, 'e sticks out too!"

"They can speak perfectly legibly, you uneducated reprobate, and they speak with proper grammar; Raphael has even smothered his own accent, and he's from France."

"That's not necessarily true," murmured Raphael, looking uncomfortable. Alister could understand why—Raphael had been trapped on an island with no one to talk to, and he had simply lost what little accent he had. There had been no practice involved.

"They cannot help how they look, though Alister could certainly learn how to dress himself in clothes that are appropriate," continued Gurimo, ignoring Raphael's obvious discomfort.

The redhead's eyes narrowed dangerously, but a warning glance from Raphael made the slender man clench his fist with a low growl and he merely glared at Gurimo; the burly blonde had no doubts that Alister was plotting a very slow and painful way for Gurimo to die.

"'N' wha' if I don' wanna do wha' you say?" said the Australian challengingly.

Gurimo growled. "You would dare disobey Master Dartz's order?"

Valon bit back what had to be a violent response, instead glancing at Raphael in hopes that the older man could help him. The older blonde minutely shook his head, shooting Valon a sympathetic glance; if Master Dartz had ordered it there was little that he could do to interfere.

"Fine," Valon muttered, following Gurimo out of the room as the man left.

The moment Gurimo was out of earshot Alister said flatly, "I highly doubt that Master Dartz ordered something like that."

"That may be true, but I'm not about to question him about it," Raphael said, lifting his checker to jump two of Alister's and setting it down on the board. "King me."

"I'm surprised you aren't more worried. You're usually the one who stands up for Valon," the red-haired biker commented as he placed a red checker on top of Raphael's.

The blonde shrugged. "If it's an order from Master Dartz, we'll know soon enough; Valon's probably going to call Gurimo's bluff. I don't imagine him willingly learning how to speak just like Gurimo, even if Master Dartz ordered it."

* * *

"Make this sound: heh. Be certain to emphasize the 'h' part of it."

"Heh."

"Good. With that in mind, say hello."

"'ello."

"Wrong! You need to emphasize the 'h' in the word. Now say it again."

"…'ello!"

Gurimo growled, eyes narrowing. "You are not even trying."

"I am tryin'!" Valon said indignantly. "I can' 'elp it tha' you can' teach. B'sides, this's the way I talk. It's a bit late t' try and correct it, innit?"

"You will make an effort and you will learn how to speak properly," Gurimo snapped.

"Mate, wha' part of, 'I grew up with this accent 'n' I can' change it' aren' you gettin'?" replied the brunette, blue eyes flashing in irritation.

"Getting. Get-_ting_. Not gettin'," said the monocled man firmly. "And don't feed me this garbage about how you grew up with an accent. I've seen people lose their accents after they applied themselves to studying; I've even heard Australians speak without this cockney accent that you've seemed to adopt."

Valon scowled. "''ve never been to school. 'eck, I barely know me letters!"

"My letters. Now say hello and good day."

"'ello 'n' g'day."

"NO! You're wrong again! You are not going to leave that chair until you start speaking without that atrocious accent. Now say it again: hello and good day."

"We're gonna be 'ere all night," Valon groaned, tugging on the handcuff that kept him attached to the chair bolted to the floor. "This's stupid."

"Say it, you reprobate. Unless you want me to get Master Dartz involved?"

"Fine. 'ello 'n' g'day."

"Wrong again!"

* * *

Raphael looked over at the door as Valon bounced back into the room cheerfully, an open grin on his face. "The blighter gave up on me. Says I can' talk normal 'n' it's gonna get me killed one day, but wha' does 'e know anyway?" he announced, flopping onto the sofa.

Alister did not look up from the book he was currently reading. "That only took two hours. I can tell he wasn't successful."

"O' course 'e wasn'! I grew up talkin' like this 'n' 'm not gonna change it just 'cause 'e doesn' like it," said the teenager firmly.

"Perish the thought. Valon talking with perfect grammar and without an accent? The world would end," the redhead said boredly.

Raphael shook his head. "I'm guessing you didn't exactly cooperate with Gurimo," he commented, looking away from the television screen to meet Valon's gaze.

Valon frowned thoughtfully at Raphael for a moment before he said, "I could talk without an accent if I wanted to. It just takes a little more concentration to do, but I have been able to talk like this before."

The sentence itself did not cause Raphael to look at Valon with a startled expression on his face, nor did the sentence make Alister do a double take and look up from his book. What got their attention was the fact Valon had spoken without the slightest trace of his cockney accent and even pronounced his words fully.

"How long have you been able to talk normally?" Alister asked, barely concealing his surprise.

"For a while. Mother Mary decided to try and teach me how to speak properly, and what she taught me stuck," said Valon slowly. "She felt like one day it would come in handy."

He met the incredulous stares of his friends for a moment longer before he laughed and continued, "But i's easier f'r me t' talk like this 'cause I don' 'ave t' concentrate on wha' I want t' say; it takes me a bit to figure out what I wanna say. B'sides, 'm not gonna let Gurimo take the credit f'r 'convertin' me to the proper side of grammar' or somethin' stupid like tha."

"…Don't worry. Your secret's safe with us," Raphael said at last, shaking his head in amusement.


	84. Nothing Will Ever Be Right Again

_Something's out to get me._

_So, good news first: I'm still healthy and I got my tests out of the way, not to mention I have a few plot bunnies bouncing around. Bad news: I've reinjured my hand AGAIN. I have more information on my profile about this, so if you're curious you can go look at it there._

_Anyway, before I hurt my hand I was doodling and I came up with a mental image that was so poignant that my bunnies instantly came up with this bunny to come along with it; I'll probably try to draw that mental image at some point, hand permitting._

_Pre-DOOM, set in canon verse (but not actual canon), and review button wants attention!_

* * *

In all of his days on the battlefield he had never seen such eyes.

The private had been fighting this God-awful war for several months now, and he had seen many different expressions on the faces of the refugees he encountered. Most of them were filled with numb weariness, while others watched any soldier with distrust and wariness. He had watched grown men silently crying as they watched their homes burn, had heard the wails of mothers and wives who had lost their families in a battle, and had gazed upon the pinched and scared looking faces of the orphaned children who had nothing left and watched everything with hollow eyes.

But as he was returning to a refugee camp late one afternoon on the outskirts of the war-torn city, his attention was drawn to an individual who was sitting on a log just nearby the entrance to the camp. It was enough to make him stop in his tracks.

It was yet another child, hunched desolately where he sat and staring at something loosely gripped in his hands. It had been the boy's vibrant red hair that directed the private's attention to him—against the gray and brown hues of the landscape it acted as a beacon. His clothes were torn and held together by several patches, and his face was streaked with grime and smoke; several bandages were wrapped around his hands, though the boy hardly cared at all for them.

The private recognized the partial facial expression he could see on the child's face and felt sympathy for him—the boy had just lost someone precious to him. He had seen that numb look countless times while he had been serving here. He took a cautious step forward to the boy, noticing the charred and burned toy that was held in the bandaged hand's loose grip; either his parents had given the toy to the boy before they were killed or he'd had a younger sibling who had been lost, but either way that toy held obvious value to this child.

"Are you all right, son?" he ventured softly as he took another step.

The child did not immediately respond, though his grip on the toy tightened and his shoulders tensed. He did not look up, however, and he said nothing.

"It isn't safe out here. You should be in the camp; it's getting dark," the private tried again in a coaxing voice.

There was still no response.

The soldier sighed before he closed the gap between them, kneeling down to face the boy at eye-level. "I know things seem bleak right now," he said quietly. "You've probably lost someone in this war, haven't you?"

The boy's grip on the broken toy was so tight now that his fingers were turning white.

"Don't worry, though. This war is almost over. It probably is not much consolation, but pretty soon the war will stop, you can be reunited with your relatives, and everything will be right again," he said encouragingly.

The boy's head slowly lifted after a brief hesitation, his gray eyes locked on the soldier in front of him.

The private had expected the boy to be in tears, had expected to see the inner anguish and despair of the child as he mourned his loss. It would either be that or it would be the same hollow look of the children who he had seen in the town.

Nothing prepared him for the look he saw then after the child made eye contact.

The boy's gray eyes were hard and hauntingly emotionless, as cold and unforgiving as steel. There was no trace of despair or anguish reflected on his face; his face was completely blank. Yet that was impossible, because though his face was perfectly calm the private could almost feel the immeasurable volume of fierce but silent fury that radiated from the boy; how could this boy feel so much anger and yet look back at him so emotionlessly?

This expression didn't belong on a child. This murderously calm, yet grimly determined expression belonged on a soldier who had seen too much, on a man who carried vengeance against those who had wronged him and had taken his happiness away. Yet here it was, manifested in this boy who could not be much older than twelve.

It frightened the private in a way he would never be able to fully define.

The child rose to his feet, moving as swiftly and as silently as a shadow back toward the camp, but he paused and turned to face the adult that was still frozen where he knelt. For just a moment, the soldier saw the unnamed grief that flashed in those gray eyes, and he could see the vulnerable and aching child who was now alone in the world. He could see the little boy that was inwardly crying and asking why the world had taken away so much from him.

But in an instant that look vanished to be replaced by the cold mask once more. The child eyed him for a moment longer before he said something the soldier never forgot, even after the war had ended and he had returned home.

The quiet voice that spoke was cold and emotionless, but there was no trace of despair in the boy's words. It was matter of fact, spoken with a voice that honestly made the private inwardly shudder; no child should be able to speak with such cold certainty.

"You're wrong. For me, nothing will ever be right again."


	85. The Mournful Sound of a Harmonica

_I was listening to an unnamed song on the radio and it used an instrument that my bunnies pounced on and said, "Ah ha!" to write this shot. Literally: it was an epiphany moment._

_There are two parts to this particular oneshot. The first part is set during DOOM, shortly after, "First Meeting" and "I Fell Down the Stairs" but before "Caught in the Current." The second part is set post-DOOM. Leave me a review on the way out!_

_EDIT: It would figure that I no sooner post this chapter when I come up with a new title for it. If you're confused, this was originally called, "Tidy Rooms and Harmonicas."_

_ANOTHER EDIT: Please go see my profile for an important news bulletin. :D_

* * *

Valon blinked in confusion at the sound of the music, wondering where on earth it was coming from. He had heard many different types of music before, but this sound…there was a tinny and mournful quality to it, one that he had only heard once a long time ago when he was younger. What on earth was it?

He followed the sound through the temple until he found himself in front of Alister's room. He hesitated, knowing very well that Alister was not particularly friendly to him and the red-haired man had made it exceptionally clear that he did not want anyone in his room, but at the same time he wanted to see just what was making that strange sound. In the end, curiosity won out over caution and he hesitantly opened the door; he took the utmost caution so that Alister would not hear him by only opening it partially.

He peered through the slightly ajar door carefully; cerulean eyes landed on Alister's form perched in the open windowsill. The older man was not looking at the door, instead gazing out at the ocean beyond the window; whatever was making the music that had drawn the Australian here was coming from Alister himself, who seemed to be holding something in his hands.

He opened the door wider and cautiously tiptoed closer, making a face at how neat Alister's room was; he could not understand how anyone could keep their room clean. He preferred a bit of disorder (and despite what anyone thought Valon knew _exactly _what was under his bed!). Raphael was a tidy person as well but at least his room showed some part of his personality, such as having a few favorite books on top of a dresser. The only thing that was amiss in the clean room was Alister's duster, neatly folded and placed on a chair near his bed—the rest of the room looked as impersonal as a hotel room.

Valon's attention was piqued once more by that strange sound and he crept closer, trying not to get too close in the event that he would need to beat a hasty retreat—Alister had a very unpredictable temper and could be quite violent if provoked enough. He rose on his tiptoes to try and peer over Alister's shoulder, and he even got a glimpse of something silver shining in the sunlight, but he still could not tell what it was.

The music stopped abruptly. "What do you want, Valon?" Alister asked coldly, never turning around.

The boy flinched. "'ow'd you know I was—?"

"The door squeaks and you're the only one dumb enough to come in here even with my door shut," came the terse reply, and then the sound began filtering in the room once more. The music stopped a few seconds later. "If you want to talk to someone, go bother Raphael. I don't do social."

"I can tell," said Valon, gesturing around him even though Alister was not looking at him. "Your room's 'bout as interestin' as cardboard."

"If it's so boring, then go find someone else to annoy," Alister said flatly, finally turning to glare at Valon. "You came in here for a reason. Spit it out before I throw you out the window."

Valon might have initially thought that Alister was joking, except he knew better by now and knew that Alister's threat was very real. Nonetheless, he scowled and planted his hands on his hips. "Oi now, no need t' be violent," he said. "I just wanted t' ask ya somethin'. No need to threaten or 'it me."

The other man snorted. "_You're_ lecturing _me_ about violence? I'm not the one that goes around punching people in the face for no real reason."

Valon froze, knowing exactly what the slender man was referring to. "Tha' was 'n accident 'n' you know it," he said quietly after a moment's pause.

"Accident or not, Raphael still ended up with a black eye and you got lucky that he covered for you," said the other biker boredly before his gray eyes sharpened and narrowed. "Now quit wasting my time. What were you in here for?"

Valon, already angry at the older man's earlier jibe, bristled at the unfriendly tone. "I jus' 'eard this weird sound and didn' know wha' it was. It was strange 'n' it was comin' from your room, so I wanted to see wha' it was. I shoulda just dragged Raph down 'ere instead of comin' in 'ere. 'e'd 'ave known wha' it was," he continued with a mutter.

Alister frowned, some of his hostility fading away. "What weird sound?"

Valon blinked. "Er…sounded sorta rusty. 'n' it was kinda…brassy? I dunno, it was strange," he said helplessly as Alister fixed him with a blank stare.

The redhead frowned in thought until a light of comprehension entered his gray eyes. "Did it sound like this?" he asked, lifting something small and silver to his mouth and blowing into it experimentally.

Valon's own eyes lit up as the sound filled the room. "Yeah, tha's it!" he said excitedly. A few seconds later, though, he looked at Alister curiously. "Wha' is tha' thing, anyway?"

Alister held up a small and rectangular silver item for Valon to see. "It's a harmonica," he said, all of his irritation vanishing as he looked back at the brunette. "Haven't you seen one before?"

"'eard 'em, never saw 'em," Valon said with a shrug. "It never occurred t' me t' go lookin' f'r one since I didn' know wha' they were called."

"I play it all the time. It helps me think," Alister said quietly, eyeing the instrument in his hand with an unreadable expression. He paused and seemed to rethink his statement, his gaze softening. "Actually, it helps me forget," he amended softly.

The Australian tilted his head. "Forget wha'? It must be somethin' sad, 'cause when you play it you sound upset 'bout somethin'…"

"If it was any of your business I would tell you," the older biker snapped, his expression disappearing behind an emotionless mask once more.

Valon decided not to push the issue any more and possibly provoke Alister into attacking him, instead returning his attention to the instrument. ""ow d'you play it?" he asked, tipping his head to the instrument.

Alister stared at the other teen with a unreadable expression, nonetheless lifting the harmonica to his mouth. "Like this," he said simply, and then the sound of the harmonica once more filled the room. The music carried a mournful note to it, but at the same time it was strangely reassuring to listen to; Valon's temper, flaring because of Alister's insults, was already calming as he listened.

The red-haired biker played it for a few more minutes before he looked up at Valon and the music stopped once again. "That's how."

Valon frowned. "Tha's not very 'elpful," he stated with a small scowl. "I know it looks easy, but knowin' you it's actually 'ard t' do."

Alister rolled his eyes but said nothing, deciding to start playing on his harmonica once again. The shorter teenager listened to the music for only a minute before he asked, "Can I try?"

The red-haired biker stopped playing and fixed Valon with an annoyed stare. "And get your germs on my harmonica? Stupidity is contagious these days. Go get your own harmonica and figure it out."

Valon growled. "Maybe I will," he said irritably as he went to Alister's doorway. "I don' need your 'elp anyhow 'n' I don' even want t' use your dumb 'armonica!"

"Good riddance," Alister muttered as the boy passed through the door. "I was beginning to worry I would never get a moment's peace."

There was a brief and heavy silence following this statement, broken moments later by the soulful sound of Alister's harmonica.

* * *

Poke. "Oi, Alister?"

The redhead looked up from his book with a raised eyebrow. "Why are you poking me?" he asked flatly, careful not to disturb the slumbering Misa curled on his lap. "If you wait another hour, Raphael will be back from work."

The teenager hesitated for a moment before he sheepishly dug into his pocket and pulled out a silver harmonica. "I never could figure out 'ow t' play it," he said as an explanation, looking hopefully at Alister.

The redhead stared at the instrument in surprise. "Is that my harmonica?"

The Australian shook his head. "You told me not t' use yours, so first chance after tha' I went 'n' bought one," he said. "I couldn' ever figure out 'ow t' play it 'n' Raph didn' know 'ow to either, so…I was sorta 'opin' tha' you could…well, teach me?"

Alister silently eyed the harmonica in Valon's palm for a moment before he sighed. "My harmonica is in the top drawer of my nightstand. Go get it, would you? There's no way I'm using your harmonica—stupidity's still contagious," he said with a faint smirk.

Valon grinned as he left the room, seeming to understand that the last part of Alister's sentence was made in jest. Minutes later, he returned with a nearly identical rectangular object and handed it to his older friend.

When Alister had received his harmonica and once more began to play it so as to teach Valon, the music that came from the instrument did not carry such a mournful quality to it.


	86. Chance Encounter

_I'm not sure what I am supposed to say in regard to this chapter…mostly because if I say too much I'm afraid I'll spoil the surprise._

_Post-DOOM and leave reviews on the way out!_

* * *

Raphael looked down at Misa with raised eyebrows. "Are you coming out from under there or am I going to have to get you out the hard way?"

The cat glared balefully at him from where she was hidden under the dresser, her green eyes spelling her distaste.

"Don't look at me like that, Misa," he continued. "Do you want those stitches off or am I going to have to drag you out from under there?"

The cat merely scooted closer to the wall, her tail lashing in annoyance. It was as if the cat was tempting him to try and get her out; she seemed to be hoping Raphael would try to stick his hand under the dresser and pull her out that way so she could scratch him. Normally Misa was so much friendlier to all three of her owners, but she had figured out just what the word, "vet" meant and that meant they would be hard pressed to retrieve her.

Generally, their cat hid under dressers or in closets once she got wind that she had to go to the vet, and when the bikers tried to move the dresser to get at her (she clawed anyone who tried to drag her out of whatever dresser she was hiding under) she simply took off to hide somewhere else. Raphael couldn't help but grin as he rose to his feet to move the furniture aside. "You asked for it," he said.

Misa had chosen the wrong dresser to hide under this time. This one had wheels.

Raphael moved the dresser away easily and caught her as the cat tried to run past him. Misa growled but did not try to claw him; she could not reach him since he had her by the scruff and her leg was still rather tender.

The older blonde easily scooped her into his hand, making certain that her two front paws were firmly in his grip (and taking care not to jar her leg) before he padded out of the room with her, stopping by Valon's bedroom as he made his way to the stairs. "I'm taking Misa to go get her stitches removed. Do you want to tag along?"

Valon lifted his head up from the video game he had been playing, his eyes immediately going to Misa. "You caught 'er this time!" he said cheerfully, rolling off the bed to land on his feet. ""n' 'ere I was thinkin' tha' you weren' gonna catch 'er."

"I could have gotten her faster if you had bothered to help me," Raphael commented flatly, adjusting his grip on the slightly squirming feline. "Are you coming or not?"

"You better b'lieve I am," Valon chirped, reaching for his shoes and slipping them on carelessly as he followed after his older companion. ""ve been cooped up in this 'ouse f'r the better part of a week—I'll go anywhere if it means out."

* * *

Valon carefully eased the cat crate out of the car and closed the car door with his foot. "'ere we are, kitty," he announced, turning the crate so that Misa could see the front door of the office. "You'll be as right as rain 'ere in just a little bit, Misa."

Misa let out an unhappy yowl, pawing at the cage door while trying to regain her balance; since Valon was moving the cat was being jostled around the inside of the cat carrier. She glared up at both Raphael and Valon, no doubt plotting her revenge against them.

"She's bein' kinda silly. Vet's on'y going to do 'is job, it isn' like 'e's gonna 'urt 'er," the Australian said with a frown.

Raphael paused, causing Valon to bump into him. The older man then turned around and brushed aside Valon's bangs to place his hand on the boy's forehead. "It doesn't seem like you have a fever…maybe having the chicken pox had some side-effects," he said in consternation. "Are you feeling all right?"

Valon scowled, pulling away from Raphael. "Oh ha ha, Raph. Very funny. This's different—Misa's the one goin' in."

Raphael opened his mouth to reply when suddenly a woman's voice cut across him. "SADIE! COME BACK HERE!"

Both of the bikers looked at each other in confusion before Valon yelped, hoisting Misa's crate out of range of the dog that had suddenly materialized next to him. The German Shepherd was still only a puppy, but it was full of a boundless energy and instantly rose on its hind legs to try and peek into the cat crate.

Noticing a red leash trailing from the puppy's collar, Raphael caught it and gently tugged on the leash to pull the animal away from Valon. Instantly the dog turned around and bounded at him, once more rising on its hind legs and wagging its tail furiously once it was close enough to him.

"Hello there, pup," he said amicably, watching as the dog went back to all fours. "Who do you belong to?" he continued, bending down to read the dog's nametag.

"Maybe tha' sheila?" Valon ventured, gesturing to a woman who was hurrying toward them. "She certainly looks like she lost a doggie."

The casually dressed woman came up to them then, her eyes filling with relief at the sight of her dog. She came up to just the middle of Raphael's chest, though she was about Valon's height upon closer inspection. "Thank you for catching Sadie," she said, brushing a few strands of her caramel colored hair out of her face. "She's just a regular bundle of energy and car rides don't help. She took off when I got out of the office and—oh! Mr. Knighton!" she said in surprise, brown eyes lighting with recognition. "I thought you looked familiar. Was there any more damage to your car?"

"There wasn't, Ms. Monroe," Raphael said with equal surprise, missing Valon's startled expression. "Everything has been running normally since we bumped into each other—although I was under the impression that you had already gone to the vet."

The woman made a face. "Yes, I did come here right after we met. Sadie's just a puppy, though, and she got into something she shouldn't have; she bit into a tennis ball and got it caught on a couple of her teeth. Sadie's all right now, but she won't be if she doesn't stay out of trouble," she added, giving a mock glare to the dog by Raphael's feet.

Sadie looked up at all three of the humans before letting out an obvious yawn and scratching at her ears, obviously disinterested in the conversation.

Ms. Monroe smiled at the dog before she returned her attention to Raphael. "What are you doing in this neighborhood?" she inquired, looking up at him thoughtfully. "I'm guessing you have a pet of your own."

"Our kitty got cut up 'n' she's gettin' stitches out t'day," Valon said, holding the cat crate up for the other woman to see. "She isn' too 'appy 'bout it, though."

When Ms. Monroe looked at the boy with a startled expression, Raphael realized he had forgotten to introduce them. "Ms. Monroe, this is my friend Valon. The crate he's holding has Misa the cat inside."

"You have a cat?" said Ms. Monroe curiously, looking at the cage for a glimpse of Misa. "I always did want one, but then a friend got me Sadie and I figured that one animal was enough."

There was an odd beeping sound and Ms. Monroe jumped, reaching into her purse to pull out her cell phone and glance at it. She looked back up apologetically at Raphael. "Oh dear. I'm running late for a job interview…I'm really sorry to talk and run, but—"

"It's not a problem," said the blonde, holding the dog leash out to Ms. Monroe so she could take it from him. "Good luck on the interview, Ms. Monroe."

"Thanks. Hey, you can go ahead and call me Ellie since it seems like we keep running into each other," replied Ellie as she took the leash from him. "I hope your cat feels better," she continued as she made her way back to her car.

Valon grinned mischievously at his older friend as the woman disappeared into her vehicle but said nothing until her car disappeared from the parking lot. "So…who was tha'? Someone from your job?" he asked.

"No," Raphael replied simply, walking toward the veterinarian's office. "That was a Miss Danielle Monroe; she hit the car last week when Alister was getting his cast off."

The Australian's grin grew in size. "Tha' explains Ellie, then…you knew 'er name b'fore this, though."

"Obviously, since I used it in the conversation. What are you getting at?" Raphael asked suspiciously, eyeing the boy cautiously. He did not quite like the look Valon was giving him.

"Oh, nothin'," Valon said airily. He walked forward with Misa's crate in hand before he turned back to face the burly man once again. A wicked smile split his face and he began to say in a sing song voice, "Raph 'n' Ellie, sittin' in a tree, K-I—"

"This is only the second time I've met her. She's only an acquaintance, if that at all," Raphael said with a scowl, though his face turned an interesting shade of red. "Cut that out."

"…-S-S-I-N—"

"Valon, I mean it!"

"—G. First comes lo—"

"If you want any form of sugar in the house come Halloween, you better not finish that."

* * *

An hour later both Raphael and Valon slipped into the car with Misa in tow. The cat was much happier now that she knew she was going home and was contentedly purring in the carrier, her purrs audible in the car.

"Valon, could you slip this into the glove box?" Raphael asked, handing the teenager the veterinary bill. "I'll get it out when we get home."

"Sure thing, Raph," said the Australian, opening the compartment while Raphael pulled out of the parking spot. A moment later, though, Valon's face gained an evil grin and he pulled out a small piece of paper. "You've got Ellie's number?"

The blonde looked over at him. "She bumped into my car. I needed her phone number so I could contact her for insurance reasons—"

"She gave you her number, eh? Does she 'ave yours?"

"Yes, but that's because she—Valon, don't you dare start that up again!"

"Raph 'n' Ellie sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" the brunette sang cheerily, laughing at the expression on his older companion's face

Raphael groaned miserably, reaching for the radio in hopes that he could try and drown Valon out. This was going to be a _long_ car ride home.


	87. An Interesting Order

__

This one made me grin, and I can't even begin to tell you why my bunnies chose this one; while studying for the flood of exams coming up they wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it. See if you can spot the fairly obvious reference to a certain series. On another note, kudos points go to whoever figures out what Raphael and Valon are doing in the beginning of this chapter.

_I also make a few jabs at a certain show in this one. Please refrain from the manhunt if you like the show (if I say it, I'll ruin the surprise and then how is anyone supposed to find the reference?). _

_During DOOM, set after "Caught in the Current" and leave reviews on the way out!_

* * *

"I've put up with any order given before now, but this is an exception. Can I appeal?" Alister asked with a scowl as he entered the common room near the residence hall. "I've heard some bad decisions before, but this one is nonsensical and I demand reconsideration."

Raphael never looked away from the tower of precariously balanced blocks that had at one point constructed a tower, carefully pulling one of the blocks away and setting it on the table. "I half expected to hear that coming from Gurimo. This is a new one, though. You actually want to appeal to Master Dartz? What order could make you do that?" he inquired. "Is this from Gurimo?"

"No, surprisingly. Some higher up that Master Dartz recently brought aboard sent this letter regarding our orders; thankfully, Gurimo isn't going to be directing the mission this time because he's still over in Brazil," replied Alister, brandishing a paper as he spoke. He came around the sofa and sat himself down in the armchair, folding his arms crossly. "I mean it, now: this order is detrimental to our physical well-being, and I vote we terminate the order and appeal to Master Dartz. I bet he doesn't even know about this new order."

"With all due respect, mate," Valon began, blue eyes never leaving the small tower in front of him. "You think every bloke's out t' get ya. Why's this any diff'rent?" he continued, gingerly slipping the wooden piece out from the center and setting it on the table.

"I'm also not certain on how this time is different than the others," the older blonde commented as he easily pulled another block from the tower and set it down next to the others he had pulled. "Care to elaborate?"

"You tell me," said Alister curtly, handing the piece of paper to Raphael for inspection. "Why don't you read it and find out?"

The older blonde took the paper with a skeptical expression clearly visible on his face, making certain he did not inadvertently brush the coffee table with his leg before scanning the contents of the letter. Moments later an incredulous expression made its way onto his features and he looked at Alister. "You can't be serious," he said faintly.

"Does it look like I am the joking type?" the red-haired biker replied severely, glaring at the back of the paper with unwonted venom. "I couldn't come up with something like this. Not in a million years."

Valon finally directed his attention at both of his companions, looking to Raphael for an explanation. "Raph, wha's Alister talkin' about?" he asked, tilting his head.

"Here," the blonde said with a disbelieving shake of his head, handing the paper to the teenager. "See for yourself."

The brunette took the paper and frowned in concentration as he slowly read the instructions; he was still rather shaky when it came to reading, though he was steadily improving. A few minutes later he looked up at his companions and said, "I don' get it…wha's this bloke sayin'? 'Harness those who offer to duel from your motorcycle'? Wha's 'e talkin' about?"

"He means that we're supposed to challenge anyone who plays Duel Monsters while we're driving," Raphael said, a hint of incredulity in his voice.

Valon stared. "Wait. Is 'e sayin'…?" he began, comprehension dawning on his face.

"Yes. We're supposed to play card games on motorcycles," Alister cut in crossly. "Of all the moronic…how, exactly, does he propose we do that? We can't take our eyes off the road to draw a card and place it on our Duel Disk while we're in motion. That's suicidal."

"I'm not bothered by that too much, but Valon hasn't even gotten his permit yet," said Raphael with a frown. "Nothing against you, Valon, but you can barely keep your balance on your motorcycle as it is. Doing something like this…I wouldn't recommend it at all."

"'N' wha' am I s'pposed to do if I activate the Orichalcos?" Valon asked in horror. "Or if the other fella does? 'ow 'm I s'pposed t' keep control of my bike then?"

"And let's assume the other person does not have a motorcycle. What then? Are we going to just ride around him in a circle and make ourselves dizzy? Oh, I'm sure that'll scare our target," said Alister sarcastically. "I can already tell this idea isn't going to work."

"I've been driving a motorcycle longer than you two have," Raphael said uncertainly, causing the younger bikers to look at him. "But I don't think that even the most experienced driver could operate a motorcycle and a Duel Disk all at once. They would all have to be connected together somehow so that we wouldn't run off the road."

"Not t' mention tha' those cards o' yours are important and I don' reckon you wanna lose 'em," Valon stated. "The wind gets somethin' fierce when we pick up speed on our bikes."

"Since no one has accomplished that impressive feat of technology that Raphael described yet, I recommend that we appeal to Master Dartz and have him reverse the decision. He can't have known about this order, because there's no way he would have approved of it if he knew exactly what this higher-up is asking," said Alister firmly. "Count on it."

"Even if 'e orders me too, 'm not gonna do it! I like doin' stunts 'n' all, but I won' do this! It'll look downright silly," said Valon firmly, bringing his arms up to fold them stubbornly across his chest. Unfortunately, the abrupt movement jostled the table and the precariously balanced tower toppled, the wooden blocks making a loud clatter as they hit the table.

All three bikers had not expected the noise and jumped, staring at the pile of wooden blocks with surprise until Raphael said, "I guess that means I won this round, then."

* * *

Dartz raised his eyebrows at the paper in his hand.

All three of his Swordsmen had come to him while he had been meditating in the Great Hall, interrupting him by asking him to repeal their latest order. Dartz might have ignored the request had it been Alister or Valon asking, but if Raphael—one of his more loyal followers who rarely questioned his leader—was involved as well, it meant that something truly was amiss. It was a good thing that the three of them were only supposed to listen to his orders expressly (an exception being Gurimo, who was in charge of the trio while out on missions), because otherwise he would have never have heard about this.

He only had to read the first sentence of the letter before he sighed and left the Great Hall, already making a beeline for the nearest phone. It seemed that he would need to have a discussion with his newest employee.

Dartz snorted as he reached his office and stepped inside. Really, now—card games being played on motorcycles? How absurd.


	88. Helmet Hair

_My bunnies seem to be coming up with a lot of ideas, despite the fact that I frankly have no time to work on updates; my bunnies like tormenting me with sharpened carrots. They won't cooperate when I want them to, but when I need to work on something important they suddenly start mass producing._

_Anyway, this shot is during DOOM, set just a few months before canon verse, and leave reviews on the way out!_

* * *

Valon made a face as he finished pulling his bike into the garage, taking care not to jostle either Raphael or Alister in their positions. "I's a good thing we came back. Tha' 'eat outside is right miser'ble. A few more minutes and I woulda melded t' the seat," he said with relief, fanning his flushed face with an open palm as he pulled his goggles down under his chin.

Alister pulled off his helmet, rolling his eyes as he set his helmet on the seat. The pale man's face was also flushed and his red hair hung down limply; his bangs were damp with sweat and were plastered to his forehead. "That would certainly be an improvement," he muttered, loud enough for Valon to hear and causing the boy to scowl. "I'm never running a recon patrol in the desert during daylight hours again."

"We're in the middle of the Nevada desert," Raphael replied wearily, his voice muffled by his helmet. He leaned slightly against his own motorcycle for a moment. "I'm not sure what either of you were expecting, but typically they're hot outside," he continued, taking his helmet off as well. The blonde's hair had gone flat on his head, with a few stubborn spikes still standing up; Raphael remedied this by running a hand briefly through his hair.

"I know tha'! 'm just surprised Alister didn' get 'eat stroke. 'e was wearin' 'is coat the whole time we were out there," Valon stated, looking to Alister for an explanation while unbuckling his helmet's chin straps.

"You'd be surprised at what I'm capable of," retorted Alister curtly.

"What are you, the Ice King? It wouldn' surprise me, mate," said the brunette wryly, pulling his helmet off.

Whatever Alister had been going to say was lost when he looked back at the Australian. "What on earth?" he said in disbelief.

Raphael, whose back had been turned away from both Alister and Valon, turned around in surprise to look at the other two bikers. "What happened?" he asked, unable to discern the cause of Alister's statement.

The redhead continued to stare at the teenager. "That was…surreal."

"Wha'? Do I 'ave somethin' on my face?" Valon asked in confusion, looking at Alister uncertainly for an explanation.

Raphael scrutinized the teenager with his eyes, frowning a moment later when he glanced at Alister. "I don't see anything amiss," he said, silently asking for an explanation as well.

Alister did not even hesitate. He crossed the distance between himself and Valon, reaching for the boy's helmet where it sat on the motorcycle. "Stand still," he instructed as the Australian backed away uncertainly from the other man. Valon paused for a moment, but reluctantly complied.

The red-haired biker turned to Raphael and said flatly, "Watch."

With that statement, he put Valon's helmet back on the startled brunette, making certain that Raphael was watching before he pulled the helmet back off of Valon's head.

Seconds later the burly man stared at Valon, not even bothering to hide his surprise. "How…?" he asked at last, unable to come up with a coherent way to phrase his question.

"'ow what, Raph?" Valon demanded, now both confused and slightly annoyed. "Wha's so interestin' 'bout my 'elmet?"

"It isn't your helmet that's so interesting," Alister said. "It's what's under it."

"Wha'? Wha's on my 'ead? Aw cripes, don' tell me there's glue unner my 'elmet," the Australian moaned unhappily, raising a hand to pat the top of his head, cerulean eyes flashing in alarm. "If there is I'll—"

"If there was glue, Valon, the helmet would stick to your head," Raphael commented reassuringly. "There isn't."

"So…wha's so interestin' about my 'ead?"

The slender redhead grabbed Valon and steered him by the shoulders to the nearest mirror; a small one hung in the garage and had been there since they had started using the place as a safehouse—though not one of them could really explain why it was there. Once in front of the mirror, Alister once more slipped Valon's helmet back on the boy's head.

"This is what we're interested in," he said, lifting it off once again.

The boy's fluffy brown hair, which had flattened once Alister had placed the helmet on, remained flat for just a split second before almost immediately and abruptly springing back into place. Though it made no sound, both Raphael and Alister could have sworn they heard a soft "pop" as Valon's hair returned into its proper form.

Valon gawked at his reflection, clearly startled. "So tha's what 'appens ev'ry time I take tha' 'elmet off," he said, comprehension lighting his eyes.

"You mean you didn't know that your hair did that?" asked Raphael incredulously.

"Well, I sorta knew, but I on'y felt it. I never actually saw it pop up," Valon said, vaguely gesturing to his hair. He used his hand to gingerly flatten the hair on the top of his head before lifting it up, watching with delight as his hair dutifully returned to its former position. "Cool," he said with a grin. "I've got the best 'elmet 'air ever."

"Can we please move this conversation inside? The garage is practically an oven right now," stated Raphael, gesturing around him in emphasis.

As the three young men made their way into the house, Alister glanced at Valon. "I always wondered about your hair," he said. "You have to be part jack in the box. Either that or your hair's made of elastic."

"It proves he doesn't use hair gel or hair spray," said Raphael. "It wouldn't be so...poofy if it was."

"Poofy?" inquired the redhead with a smirk, looking sideways at the other man.

"Let me know when you come up with a better word to describe his hair," Raphael deadpanned.

"My 'air's natural!" Valon snapped indignantly. "'air gel would make it as stiff as cardboard, 'n' 'air spray's right nasty smellin'!"

"Hang on. If you don't use hair gel, who keeps asking to buy it?" said Alister, frowning. "It's always on the list every time I have to go to the store."

Raphael shrugged. "Before you ask, it isn't me. My hair's always been like this," he said firmly.

"I certainly don't use it," said Alister.

"You don' reckon tha' Kuriboh does? Wouldn' surprise me; bloke's practically bald, y'know," the brunette snorted, finally satisfied that his hair would keep popping up every time it was flattened.

"Wouldn't we have noticed it? Hair gel makes your hair sometimes look oily and you can tell when someone uses it," said Raphael with a puzzled expression. "Anyway, Gurimo hates hair gel and hair sprays."

"That's about as constant as the sun rising and setting," Alister said flatly. "Gurimo not hating something would signal the Apocalypse. That's a given; it doesn't mean he's above lying to try and save him from embarrassment that he's balding. He certainly wouldn't admit to using anything if he was losing hair. Besides, how else do you think Gurimo gets his hair to stand up and make those points on the sides of his head, even with his hood on? You can't tell me that's natural."

"...You do realize that not one of us has what you can term as 'normal' hair, right?"


	89. Honest Mistake

_I…*opens mouth, closes it, opens it again, and then gives up*_

_The inspiration from this one came from a vague source. I don't think my bunnies even knew about it, which is a surprise. The idea had been dancing around, but then it made itself concrete and I found I had this shot as a result. There's a time difference between the two parts of this chapter—though that should be obvious once you read it._

_Pre-series and leave reviews on the way out. You'll figure out what it's about once you start reading._

* * *

"ACK!"

The sound of the scream startled Mother Mary completely, and she looked up into the sanctuary to determine the cause.

A young woman stood nearby one of the fallen candlesticks, looking around her in panic as she searched for a way to put out the rapidly growing fire that was traveling up the tapestry the candle had fallen against. This task seemed to be difficult, as the young woman was obviously pregnant and she could not bend over that far; she kicked the tall golden candlestick away and stepped on the flame with her shoe, but now she was left with the fire and she was at a loss.

Several people were watching the spectacle, either too stunned to move or simply unable to tear their gaze away from the panicking woman (no, girl—she could not be older than seventeen), her long semi-curled brown hair whipping around her as she searched frantically for something to put the fire out.

Someone finally reacted to the young teenager's predicament, searching for a fire extinguisher to put out the fire. Having succeeded, the older man sprayed it over the tapestry liberally to put out the flames; perhaps it had been a good thing that this was only a replica of that particular tapestry, Mother Mary thought in amusement.

The brunette stared in horror at the tapestry, her face turning a bright red as the crowd dispersed. Her cerulean eyes landed on Mother Mary and the girl seemed to shrink where she stood. "Oh God. It's official: I am going to Hell," she said faintly.

Her eyes went back to Mother Mary and the mortified expressions on the faces of the people around her and her shoulders tensed. "Er, I mean I'm going to the bad place, because I can't say that word in here and…oh, I took the Lord's name in vain too, and…I'm so sorry!" she burst out, clearly distressed.

Mother Mary's eyes softened. The poor girl looked dangerously close to tears at the moment, and it seemed that she was also thin; granted, her stomach was swollen because of the baby she carried, but there was a pale and slightly pinched quality to her face that suggested the girl had not eaten a lot of food. She smiled encouragingly as she moved alongside the distraught young woman, placing an arm around her shoulders.

"Come with me, dear," she said comfortingly. "You're all right. There was no lasting harm done; that tapestry can be repaired easily. Did you burn yourself on the wax?"

The girl shook her head mutely as they moved out of the cathedral. "No. I just was sitting in the pew and I got up and…y'know, it's really hard to move with a baby," she said, slightly defensive.

"It's all right," Mother Mary said, escorting the teenager into the crying room after making certain no one was in there. "It was only an accident."

The younger woman nodded slowly with a semblance of relief, then promptly flushed as her stomach growled loudly. She set a hand on top of her stomach and looked up sheepishly at the nun. "I'm sorry, I didn't have breakfast…" she began uncomfortably.

Mother Mary studied her with her eyes. "Surely your parents would not let you wander out with no food, let alone your husband. The baby needs you to keep up your strength."

At that the girl's eyes hardened and she said stiffly, "My parents don't either know or care where I am and certainly couldn't care about my baby, and my 'husband' went MIA the moment I told him."

The younger girl looked back at her hands, missing the stunned and saddened expression on Mother Mary's face. "I only made one mistake. One. And it was enough to screw up the rest of my life," she said quietly. "I can't get a diploma, I have to room with my older friends who can barely feed themselves, and I can't go home unless I abort the baby," she continued, the last sentence coming out as a snarl. "It's bad enough my parents want to punish me. But now they want me to punish this poor kid who did absolutely nothing wrong. I can't…no, I _won't_ punish my child for what I did."

The nun looked at the girl with an unreadable expression, mulling over the new information. No wonder the poor thing looked half-starved; she had no real home to give her care. She hesitated for a minute before she asked, "How far along are you?"

"Five, six months," came the reply, and the girl squirmed uncomfortably under the older woman's gaze. "You must think I'm some kinda harlot."

"It is not my place to judge you for your actions," said Mother Mary evenly. "I do not have the power or the authority to condemn you; only the Lord has that capability. However," she continued, fixing the younger girl with her own blue eyes. "I believe that you are in need of assistance, and that is something I do have the power for. If you want to come back here, these doors are always open for you."

She rose to her feet, holding her hand out to the teenager. "Now come with me. You need nourishment if that baby is to survive, and I believe we have a few things left over from this morning's breakfast."

The girl's tensed shoulders relaxed and, with some assistance, rose from the rocking chair she had been sitting in. "That would be nice," she said hesitantly, a small smile on her face.

They were nearly to the kitchen when the girl looked up at the older woman. "I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Celeste Harbringer."

"You may call me Mother Mary," replied the nun amicably.

"Nice to meet—GAH!"

Celeste had not exactly been paying attention, and as they entered the small kitchen she had bumped the table with her stomach, causing the pots and pans to fall to the floor with a loud crash. The girl winced, staring up at the nun in horror before she began apologizing profusely once again.

Clearly this was going to become a habit.

* * *

"'m sorry, 'm sorry, 'm sorry! 'm goin' t' 'ell—er, I mean, the bad place—for this, I know it," Valon said frantically, trying to put out the fire that was on a tapestry with little success. He noticed the older woman watching him and his face went pale and flushed at the same time. "Mother Mary, it was 'n accident, I swear!" he said in panic.

Mother Mary shook her head as she reached for a nearby fire extinguisher. "Valon, honestly, it's quite all right. People have made this mistake before," she said pleasantly, putting the fire out with a few expert squeezes of the hose. The boy had a knack of causing explosions and fires, so by now it was almost obligatory to have a fire extinguisher installed in every part of the church.

She made a mental note to move either the candle or the tapestry. Once was an accident, but twice? That was just asking for trouble, especially given Valon's luck. As she watched Valon squirming guiltily under her gaze, Mother Mary could not help but feel as if she had met him somewhere once before.


	90. Trick or Treat

_My bunnies have been plotting this one for a little while now, and they came up with this; they kept attacking me with this while I was trying to write my papers and mainly to shut them up I wrote this out. Stupid bunnies…I may put them on a diet._

_Anyway, this one is post-DOOM and leave reviews on the way out. Happy Halloween to everybody! _

_…Oh, and Happy Birthday to "Come Together." It's now officially a year old._

* * *

"Raph, Alister, I've got a problem!" Valon announced in panic, skidding into the room and nearly losing his balance.

Both of the older bikers were not even phased at this point, all too used to Valon's overly panicked outbursts; even Misa was unaffected, looking up at the boy with a wide yawn before curling up into a tighter ball near Raphael's left leg. "What seems to be the crisis?" Raphael inquired, turning a page in the book.

"You blokes could be a li'l more concerned!" said Valon once he realized that neither of them seemed to overly care about his current predicament. "But anyway, I've got a 'uge problem!"

Alister finally looked over at him from where he was perched in the window seat. "How huge?" he asked boredly.

"I need a costume by t'morrow!"

"…Valon, you're eighteen years old. Why, pray tell, do you need a costume? Don't tell me: you're going to go as Superman and get candy."

Valon folded his arms, scowling at Alister with narrowed blue eyes. "You're never too old t' trick 'r treat, mate. 'N' anyway, I can' do tha' 'cause Shizuka asked me t' go to 'er 'alloween party at 'er school!"

Raphael raised an eyebrow in interest, though he never looked up. "Oh? Have fun," he said simply, immersed in his book.

Alister stared at the older blonde man with slightly visible concern. Raphael seemed to be a bit distracted and had been since Wednesday, when he had returned from work with an odd expression on his face; normally he would have been asking why Valon had a problem by now, even if they were used to Valon's spontaneous and often mundane crises. All the older man would say was that he would not be present tomorrow night—and that was all he would say, for that matter.

Alister, who was going to stay home anyway (he was starting to get sick and had no desire to infect the younger children he was constantly around), had agreed to hand out the candy; however, Raphael had not told them where exactly he was planning on going and it seemed to be bothering him.

Valon did not seem to notice Raphael's blunt comment, instead turning to head back upstairs. "Maybe I 'ave a costume somewhere…I could try t' make somethin'…I'll see if I 'ave somethin'," he said, already disappearing upstairs.

The red-haired man watched Valon go, looking over at Raphael. Something caught his interest and made him double take. He thought about it for a moment, then rose wordlessly from his window seat and padded behind the armchair to lean against the back of it. It gave him a view of Raphael's book, and he raised his eyebrows in interest when his gray eyes landed on the page and confirmed what he had seen from across the room. "Tolkien again, huh?" he asked.

"Yeah," Raphael said, not glancing up at all to face Alister. "He does a wonderful job of explaining everything and it's always a good read."

"It is a good thing to read. I always get enlightened because I find things I missed the first time reading it," remarked Alister. He paused for a moment before stating pointedly, "I especially find it interesting that you're reading it _upside down_. I didn't know that there was some part of the book you could only see if you flipped it."

The blonde stiffened before he examined the book, realized that he had indeed been trying to read it upside down, and sighed as he set it down. "Very enlightening, as a matter of fact, but it's a bit of a strain on the eyes," he replied sardonically, watching Alister come around the back of the armchair to sit himself down on the sofa.

"What's bothering you?" asked Alister bluntly, knowing that he had Raphael's full attention. "And don't tell me it's nothing—you've been distracted since Wednesday, when you told us that you wouldn't be here tomorrow night."

Though Alister did not say it out loud, he wondered if perhaps Raphael's relatives had called him to meet with him again. The thought annoyed him, as he was fairly certain that it was an established fact that Raphael wanted nothing to do with his relatives.

Raphael seemed to understand Alister's unspoken thought. "It doesn't have to do with my family. In fact, it really is nothing but a Halloween party at work, just…" he began uncomfortably.

The red-haired man frowned as he looked back at Raphael, because if he was not much mistaken the blonde man was trying very hard not to blush as he seemed to struggle to verbalize what was in his thoughts at that moment; in fact, if Alister didn't know better it seemed that…oh.

_Oh._

"Let me guess: someone at work asked you to go to this party, and judging by that expression on your face it was a young woman," Alister said, beginning to grin when Raphael's face completely flushed. "In other words—you're going on a date."

"It's not a date," the older man protested vehemently. "It's something that my job's throwing, and she asked if I was going because she was and she doesn't know too many coworkers, so she needs me to introduce her."

The red-haired man eyed him contemplatively before he smirked. "This young woman you mentioned—she wouldn't happen to be a Miss Ellie Monroe who rear-ended us and who happens to go to the same veterinary that we do for Misa?" he inquired.

Raphael stared at him before he pointedly looked away and muttered loud enough for Alister to hear, "Possibly."

Alister said nothing in reply, but when Raphael glanced back at the young man he could plainly hear what the other man was not saying. "Oh, not you too," he said with an exasperated groan. "Don't you start singing it."

"Singing what?" Alister asked with a playful smirk. "Oh, you mean that one little ditty Valon wouldn't stop singing a couple of weeks ago, when you came back from getting Misa's stitches out?"

He rose to his feet, allowing himself to show a little amusement at the mortified (and embarrassed) expression on Raphael's face. "I have just had a temporary bout of amnesia and have no idea why you chose to read _The Hobbit _upside down, nor do I have any clue what Valon happened to be singing that day," he said, feigning a forgetful expression.

Raphael's tense shoulders eased up and Alister caught the silent but grateful, "Thank you." If their younger companion got wind of this, it was quite likely that Raphael would never get a moment's peace—but Alister had to admit that it was rather amusing to tease the older man. He would have to remember that if he ever got bored one day.

Alister noticed that Valon was coming back downstairs, a frustrated frown on his face. "I couldn' find a thing!" he said when he saw Alister was watching him. "I've got nothin'!"

"Have you ever considered going as yourself?" he replied boredly, leaning against the door. "That way, you don't have to spend time or money getting a costume and it's one that no one else has. Not to mention you're rather scary looking."

Valon seemed to think about that as the red-haired man passed him to go upstairs. "Well, yeah, I guess I could—wait 'alf a moment, take tha' back!" he snapped indignantly as he registered the last part of Alister's statement. "I am _not _scary lookin'!"


	91. Chimney Sweep

_I blame Mary Poppins for this one._

_While taking a break from my papers I decided to watch a little bit of "Mary Poppins" with my brother, and then for the first time since October my bunnies said, "HEY! WRITE ME!" so I did. I'm not sure about this one, but I figure I better let you have an update; I'm almost done with my papers, so I figure an update is in order._

_Set post-DOOM and leave reviews on the way out!_

* * *

Valon was nowhere in sight. That should have been his first clue.

When he had walked through the door after a long day at work he certainly wasn't expecting Alister to be sprawled on the floor of the living room, looking up into the chimney with a worried expression and poking up at something awkwardly with a broomstick. Misa was looking up as well, her green eyes genuinely puzzled and her fur dark with soot.

Raphael blinked, staring at the redhead. Coming up with no reason as to why his normally stoic companion was messing with the chimney (and feeling a strong instinct that he was going to regret asking later), he took a few cautious steps into the room. "I wasn't aware that Santa visited this early," he said as a way of greeting.

Alister looked over at him, traces of relief flickering in his gray eyes. Soot smudged his face and hair, and his shirt front was covered in the powdery substance. "Nice to see you too. Santa isn't up the chimney, Valon is," he replied, setting the broomstick down.

It took him a few seconds, but then Raphael heard the distinctly panicked shouts emanating from the opening of the fireplace. The Australian's voice was heavily muffled by the thick brick wall, but it was still audible. Alarm replaced whatever tiredness he had from work. "What happened?" Raphael asked sharply, crossing the room to the fireplace in two quick steps.

"I wish I could tell you," replied Alister grumpily. "I came home to find Misa meowing up at the fireplace and soot all over the place."

Raphael frowned. He had to figure out just where their friend was; if he was too far up the chimney then Raphael would have to go to the roof and pry up the grate to get at him. He also had to figure out which way Valon was wedged in the chimney.

"Alister, how long ago did you come home?" he inquired, glancing at the clock.

"I got here fifteen minutes ago," came the reply as Alister cautiously lowered himself onto the fireplace to peer up at the dark chimney. The blonde noticed Alister had put on his sunglasses, most likely to protect his eyes from the falling soot. "I really have no idea as to how he got himself stuck in the chimney."

"I'm getting a flashlight. See if you can't get Valon to calm down; if he's struggling he's only going to wedge himself in there tighter, if not hurt himself," ordered Raphael firmly, leaving the room to search for the aforementioned object.

Alister, meanwhile, peered up into the chimney to figure out which way Valon was lodged. He couldn't see anything at first, but after a quick minute of searching he spotted two white spots in the otherwise dark chimney. "Valon?"

There was a brief pause before the redhead heard a muffled shout, which could be interpreted as either Valon hearing him and trying to get his attention or replying to Alister's inquiry.

The red-haired biker felt a small amount of relief that the Australian was at least able to shout. That meant he was getting at least some air, which meant that his other companion was not that badly off. "Can you breathe?" he called upward, hoping his voice was loud enough for Valon to hear him.

An oddly muffled reply greeted him moments later, but Alister had no idea what Valon was saying. It was rather hard to make out anything, since it obviously sounded like Valon was being pressed against the wall.

Raphael returned with the flashlight, flicking it on and lowering himself to the ground. "How's he doing?"

"I can't tell," Alister said flatly, though traces of worry flickered in his eyes. "I can see his socks, but beyond that I'm guessing he's probably hyperventilating right about now—he's not very good at negotiating small places. That's not good if he's inhaling all that soot. He could be smothered by it before we get him out."

"Valon?" Raphael called up into the chimney worriedly, the light from the flashlight hitting the bottom of the boy's socks. "Valon, are you all right?"

The feet shifted desperately, their owner fighting to escape his prison. "'d 'preciate get'n ow'," said Valon then, his voice still muffled but at least discernible.

"We're trying to get you out, but you're going to have to be patient with us, all right?" said Raphael firmly. "Just don't panic—"

"Easy f'r you to say. You're not th' one st'ck in 'ere," the brunette snapped, his voice still muffled. When he next spoke his voice carried a whine to it. "C'mon, f'llas, ge' me outta 'ere."

Alister frowned. "What does he think we're doing?" he muttered. He looked at Raphael and asked, "How are we going to get him out, exactly? It seems he's wedged in there pretty tightly."

The older man eyed the chimney, his eyebrows furrowed in thought. "He got himself in there…" he said, half to himself. "And he was moving earlier. If he got himself in, maybe…it's possible…"

"Share with the class."

Raphael moved past Alister and made his way back to the chimney, kneeling near the opening once again. "Valon, is there any way you can move your arms?" he called.

There was not a reply at first, but both of the bikers could definitely hear ragged breathing; Valon was rapidly losing the little control that he had over his fear, and if something was not done the situation would worsen.

"Hey, fluff brain," Alister snapped as he peered up as well, his voice sharp. "Can you move your arms?"

There was a second's pause. "'m n't a f'uff br'n," came the sullen response at last. The boy's feet shifted again and he said, "I c'n move m' arms a li'l bit."

The burly man turned to Alister and said, "Is there a way you can get into the fireplace?"

The redhead stared at his older friend with incredulity. "I'm sorry, but what?"

"Can you stand in the fireplace?" the blonde asked again, his voice tinged with impatience. "There isn't a way I'm going to be able to fit up in there, and if you can't it means I have to go to the roof."

Alister growled. "I hate being skinny," he muttered, slipping past the taller blonde and cautiously into the fireplace, crouching down to stoop in the opening. He looked up intently, gauging whether or not he would be able to stand up without getting stuck. Experimentally, he lifted one of his arms over his head and stood up, wincing as his vision went entirely dark; it was just barely, but he could stand up in the narrow opening and one of his hands brushed a cotton material—Valon's sock.

The redhead ducked back down, coughing. "I can reach him, but only with one arm; I can't put both my arms up. I'm also going to need a handkerchief—inhaling that soot won't do me any favors."

Raphael looked back up the chimney as Alister quickly left the room to retrieve a dust mask, waiting until Alister returned before he called up to the trapped teenager, "All right. Valon, try to move your arms up and above your head if you can, one at a time. Alister's going to tug on your ankle from down here and we'll see if you don't start moving down."

Alister slipped inside the chimney once again, the upper half of his body vanishing as he assisted Valon; it took about twenty minutes before Alister slowly lowered himself out of the chimney and the lower half of Valon's body dropped into view. Seconds later, a pair of feet touched the ground and a disheveled Valon nearly flew from the grate, flopping onto the ground in relief. A dust mask was on his face and his body was smudged with soot.

"'s good t' be outta there," he proclaimed cheerfully, looking up at his older companions as he pulled the dust mask off. "Real uncomfortable, tha'."

"I'm glad to see you're not too badly hurt," Raphael stated with relief, noting the scrapes on Valon's arms. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," said Valon tiredly. "Just kinda stiff. I 'ate tha' dumb thing."

Alister held up a first aid kit. "While I'm fixing you up, do you want to elaborate on why you got stuck in a chimney?" he asked, sitting on the floor beside Valon to grab his arm and begin dousing it with a wet rag. Raphael sat himself down on the sofa gingerly, making certain there was nothing of the black powder on the cushion before lowering himself in the chair.

Valon winced as Alister proceeded to use an antiseptic pad to clean up the wounds. "Well…see, back in DOOM it was New Years but Gurimo 'ated fireworks, so I stuck a whole bundle up the chimney b'cause I didn' want 'im to find them—well, down it. There's a couple o' loose bricks up there 'n' there was a nice ol' gap for the firecrackers to sit. I remembered tha' they were up there t'day and I was tryin' to get them 'cause the grate on the top of the chimney won' let me go in from above. On'y problem is I'm too big 'n' 'alfway there I realized I was stuck."

"…We're really lucky we've never used that fireplace," said Raphael, flabbergasted.

Alister narrowed his eyes as he began bandaging the boy's arms. "Do you ever think, or do you like doing stupid things just to annoy people?" he inquired sarcastically.

Valon scowled. "I was gonna get 'em out! 'ow's that stupid?"

"Valon, you put _fireworks_ in a chimney, for crying out loud. And then you tried to go get them when you were obviously too big to even think about climbing up there, and not to mention you have claustrophobia issues," Alister snapped. "'Stupid' doesn't even begin to describe it."

The Australian opened his mouth to retort, but Raphael chose this moment to enter the conversation. "At any rate, you're not hurt and you don't seem to be in any immediate danger."

Valon grinned, his retort forgotten because of Raphael's sentence, and he was about to reply when the blonde said matter-of-factly, "Because you don't seem to be badly hurt, you can clean up this room and the furniture, as well as Misa."

The boy looked around the room in horror and stared at Raphael with a disbelieving expression. "By myself?"

"Technically, you made this mess. I'm certainly not cleaning up this time," said Raphael with a shrug. "I suggest you get out of those clothes—they're tracking soot everywhere. You also might want to hurry up; you'll be here all night if you don't get to work."

"…Y'know, I think I may 'ave broken my—"

"No dice, Valon. Get to work."


	92. Toothache

_My bunnies seem to delight in drawing inspiration from the most random things._

_I was watching some program on the Discovery channel about sharks (I don't remember what it was called. There's WAAAY too many programs on that subject, it seems) when all of a sudden this one hit me and it wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it down. _

_With that in mind, please note that THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH SHARK ATTACKS. _

_Anyways, post-DOOM and leave reviews on the way out!_

* * *

"Don't bother Alister."

That was what greeted Valon when he walked into the house that afternoon. It wasn't the fact Raphael was home that made him baffled—it was the fact that Raphael was home before six o' clock. The blonde always came home around then, sometimes earlier in certain situations. However, the Australian could not think of any real reason for Raphael to be standing in the front hallway, waiting for him.

Valon registered the sentence and frowned. "Why?" he asked when his mind came up blank with reasons as to why the red-haired biker was not to be disturbed.

The burly blonde looked over into the family room absently, a worried frown on his own face. "He's on the sofa in there. No matter how tempting the situation, you are to leave him alone."

The brunette tilted his head, staring up at Raphael with a confused expression. "Wha' did I miss?" he asked. "Why can' I talk t' 'im?"

"You can. Just no pranks and keep your voice down."

"…Okay, but why?"

"Valon, you know what the wisdom teeth are, correct?"

The boy blinked. "Well, yeah. They're those teeth that are in the way back o' your jaw; the Evil Overlord said I don' 'ave those teeth though—just a lotta cavities."

The blonde did not even bother asking about the new name for the dentist, though a small smirk danced on his features before vanishing. "Alister, apparently, needed to have all four of them removed today," explained Raphael with a slightly annoyed scowl. It was obvious that Alister had not warned him in advance about the appointment; their red-haired companion was far too secretive for his own good.

…Although, knowing Alister, it had been more out of pride than anything else that stopped him from telling them about the appointment. He had never even had one cavity—having all four wisdom teeth out was probably more than he could bear.

It was also obvious now why Raphael was home so early. Alister would have been in no condition to drive home after getting out of the dentist's; he must have called Raphael shortly afterward (or he possibly told him that morning so that the man knew to get him, but Valon wouldn't know that for certain. He was never awake as early as his older friends were).

Valon winced in sympathy at the thought of the being at the dentist. "Poor blighter," he said pityingly. He could not make fun of Alister for this—the Evil Overlord was something you couldn't make light of. "Everythin' seems to 'appen t' 'im all the time lately, don' it? First 'is arm, now this…somewhere in the universe someone's laughin' at 'im. 'e'll be back to normal by t'morrow, right?"

Raphael sighed. "I'm afraid not. Wisdom teeth require actual surgery to remove them, and pulling just one out is enough to lay you out for the better part of two days; having all four out at once is going to mean that Alister's out for at least a week and a half, if not longer."

The teenager looked back into the family room, his eyes landing on the sofa. "Is he there?" he asked, gesturing to it. He couldn't imagine Alister being able to walk upstairs after having his mouth drilled on.

Raphael nodded, moving to the living room to enter the kitchen without disturbing Alister. "If you're going to talk to him, make it fast—he's on a very powerful painkiller and he's not in the mood for discussion," he said quietly as he left. "I'll be in the kitchen making some dinner."

Valon hesitated before slipping into the family room, moving cautiously around the sofa to look at its current inhabitant, half expecting some nasty retort to chase him off. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of a pile of blankets and a glimpse of red hair beneath them. "Alister?"

The redhead's body shifted and a muffled whimper escaped the pile of blankets, signaling that Alister was at least awake. Valon moved to where he could see Alister's hair before flopping on the floor and eyeing the spot where he figured his older companion's face was approximately. He had no doubt that the slender man was curled into a miserable ball underneath the blankets; it was almost December and the cold had to be agonizing to his mouth.

"'ey, chum. You all right?" he ventured.

The blankets shifted again to allow the upper half of Alister's face to be visible, and a pair of glazed gray eyes glared out at him, speaking louder than words: _Does it look like I'm all right to you?_

"There's a scoreboard somewhere that's just lit up. Evil Dentist Overlord one, Alister zip," the Australian said with a grin, confident he had the other man's attention.

Alister's eyes narrowed even further, but he said nothing—it probably hurt too much to open his mouth. This looked like this was going to be a one-sided conversation; that would be nice, since Alister couldn't obviously retort.

"T' be 'onest, though, the Overlord always finds somethin' wrong with your mouth no matter what you do," the teen continued after a pause. "I floss all the time 'n' the bloke still finds a cavity. I think sometimes tha' the Overlord makes stuff up so 'e gets an excuse t' drill on your face—in a past life 'e 'ad to be a shark. Tha's prob'ly why 'e's so uptight about flossin', 'cause a shark's mouth is a mess."

The glare eased up to be replaced with visible amusement, and there was a soft chuckle before the redhead winced and quit laughing. He burrowed back under the covers, signaling the end of the conversation.

Valon shook his head, noticing Misa getting ready to jump on the sofa from the corner of his eye and scooping her up. "No you don', Misa," he said. "I don' reckon it's a wise idea if you jumped up there. You might step on Alister's face, and then we'd be short one kitty."


	93. Honesty

_Er…my bunnies…y'know, maybe I should just give up on figuring out where they get this stuff._

_A discussion with a friend of mine had me thinking about an important factor that not a lot of people seem to touch on (I can't tell you out of fear of spoiling it), and my musings led to this bunny. Ehhhh…not sure how I feel about this one._

_Post-DOOM and leave reviews on the way out!_

* * *

Valon grinned as Raphael's car pulled out of the driveway. "I doubt 'e's goin' to tha' company brunch thing just 'cause 'e's 'opin' for a raise. Raph's not the kind of fella to do somethin' like that," he said with a smirk. "There's a lady involved in 'ere some'ow."

"It couldn't be because he usually spends most Saturdays at the house sleeping or taking a break from work. It's a change in scenery, Valon. Even I get bored when I'm up in my room," Alister replied quietly, never looking up from his book and speaking without opening his mouth too far; since his dentist visit Alister's speech was decidedly quieter than normal and at times was not understandable.

Valon had no difficulty understanding the older man this time, however. "Yeah, but Raph's never done stuff like tha', though," the Australian said cheerfully. "If 'e wants t' get out 'e just goes t' the nearest library or the bookstore; 'e doesn' go to comp'ny picnics or the like. 'm tellin' ya, there's a sheila involved."

The redhead rolled his eyes but said nothing at the moment. His mouth was still rather tender and he limited speaking out loud to a bare minimum; he had a notepad nearby that he used in the event that it hurt too much to talk.

While it was true that Raphael's attendance at a company brunch was most likely due to a certain young woman that worked on the same floor he did (and who answered to the name of "Ellie"), he would not say that out loud. It was Raphael's business and not his; although he teased the blonde mercilessly, he at least knew when to stop. Valon did not—Alister feared one of Valon's teasing remarks might break Raphael's brain and therefore had not told Valon where their oldest friend had gone on Halloween.

He glanced up idly to notice that Valon was frowning in consternation at the window, his smile replaced by an unreadable expression. "Alister, if 'e _is_ seein' someone…d'ya reckon 'e's gonna tell 'er 'bout DOOM?" he said, not looking over at the older biker. "I got lucky with Shizuka, 'cause Jounouchi 'ad already told 'er 'bout DOOM 'n' I didn' 'ave t' explain much; I was lucky she even _forgave_ me for it. But Raph won' 'ave tha' option with any sheila 'e's interested in."

Alister also frowned, reaching for the notepad and beginning to write on it; he had also thought about that initially when Valon had come home singing after the vet visit, but he was not in the mood to speak and so resorted to the notepad. When he was finished writing he snapped his fingers a few times to gain Valon's attention before waving the notepad at him.

The teenager wandered over and took the notepad from his friend, slowly reading Alister's slanted and narrow writing; at times Valon had trouble reading it (his reading skills were still only rudimentary) and it took him a bit before he read what was on the paper.

_Raphael's an honest individual, Valon. A huge portion of his life was wrapped in DOOM, which includes meeting us; I have no doubt that if the opportunity presents itself he'll tell whoever he's interested in the truth, especially if she starts asking him questions. He isn't the type to lie and pretend it never happened—it would hurt her later if she found out about it from a different source, and lying to her deliberately just isn't something he's able to do._

"But…but wha' if tellin' 'er interferes with the whole, 'get the girl' thing?" he asked once he had finished reading it.

Alister sighed, running a hand through his bangs before taking the notebook back and writing on it again. He really hated all dentists everywhere and currently wished that all of them would hide in corners somewhere and die miserable deaths—this would be easier to explain if he did not have to pause and write it down.

"Y'know, talkin' would be easier, chum."

Alister shot him a withering glare as he resumed writing on the notepad, handing it back to Valon when he was finished.

_That's the one flaw that Raphael has. It doesn't matter to Raphael if it'll end up hurting him in the long run—he won't lie to someone that he obviously cares about, and if it means the cost of his happiness then so be it. He'll tell her the truth, and that's all there is to it. Whether it will benefit or hinder the relationship, whatever status it may be at that point, has yet to be seen._

Valon seemed to mull over the new information before he looked back at the red-haired biker. "When do ya reckon that'll 'appen?" he asked a few minutes later. "I mean, if 'e's just startin' to see 'er –assumin' 'e's even datin' 'n' 'as someone 'e's interested in at the moment—'e won' tell 'er right away…will 'e?"

The slender man scowled at him. "I'm not a mind reader," he retorted, being careful not to open his mouth too wide. "I can't tell you what Raphael will do. That's up to him, really—he'll tell Ellie if and when he's ready to."

"I reckon tha' makes sense…Raph's a decent fella, 'e wouldn' leave a lady 'angin'," Valon said thoughtfully before he did a double take. "Ellie? As in Ellie Monroe?"

Alister froze, inwardly wincing at the error he had just made._ Sorry, Raphael_. "If I said no, will you forget that I ever said her name?" he asked with a hint of hope in his voice, though he already knew the answer before the other biker even opened his mouth.

Valon gave a wicked grin. "As if," he replied, an evil glint in his eyes. "I 'ad a funny feelin' about tha'…Ellie must work at 'is job, too," he continued, his eyes suddenly lighting up with comprehension. "Which means…on 'alloween 'e was at…_Ohhhhh."_

"Don't."

"Don' wha'?"

"Don't you dare start singing or I swear I'll club you to death with the dictionary. Who knows: you might learn something from it."

"…Hmmm—"

"No humming, either."


	94. To Watch From Afar

_I forgot about this one._

_I actually wrote this to tie in with Valon's story arc, but then I completely forgot about it and didn't remember I wrote it until I was trying to look for something for a paper and unearthed it. Huuuh. That's what I get for not organizing my documents._

_Post DOOM, set after Valon's story arc, and then after you review go check out my new poll!_

* * *

He wasn't quite sure what he was doing here.

The only reason he was here at all, he told himself firmly, was because he had a business conference that he was attending in lieu of one of the VP's and their flight had been delayed until the following morning. He was not here just to look for his son; he was here on official business.

To be fair, he had not even known his boy had survived until a friend of his who worked in a hospital back home had finally told him; rather, he had been in town and she had finally tracked down his phone number.

The boy had been born there years ago, but complications had killed the baby's mother minutes after she had delivered their son. He'd also heard about how the child had completely vanished into thin air a day later and had not resurfaced until a recent custody battle had pulled him out of obscurity.

The information he knew was obtained only because said friend was loyal to the girl and she had never liked the couple who took custody of his son. Other than that, though, she still carried the grudge of her earlier teenage years against him and still had not forgiven him.

It was all right, though. He didn't forgive himself for what he had done.

So here he was now, chasing after a child he had given up years ago and well aware that the boy probably hated his guts; he had no doubt that the boy's mother had left her son something to remember her by, as well as a way to justify herself in the child's eyes. She had always been cautious like that, even after that one night where she had thrown caution to the wind—not to mention that she had to have known that she would not get to watch him grow up.

The thought depressed him, and he felt all the angrier at himself for abandoning her. It had been a moment of weakness—he had panicked and fled the moment he found out about the pregnancy. He had plans! He wanted to make something of himself! He couldn't afford to be tied down so early in life! So he had transferred to a different college overseas and had gotten himself a business major, because he figured Celeste would abort the baby.

She hadn't. And really, wanting to make something of himself was no excuse for leaving a pregnant seventeen year old girl behind and (he had found out later, much to his chagrin and sorrow) out on the streets to fend off the world alone. He should have stayed and helped her since it was also his fault, but he hadn't—and she had paid the price for it.

He didn't really have much to go off on; all he had was his name, a picture of his eight hour old son before he had vanished, and a vague rumor that his boy was here in town. He had been tempted to talk to an agency so they could tell him more, but he was more afraid of the repercussions; he'd heard from another friend about the encounter with the Angliss' that had happened only a few weeks ago. To get in touch with them meant losing his anonymity.

Besides…though the boy was underage he had no desire to uproot him from his current home. He had no doubt that he had made friends here, and it would not be fair to take him away from all that just because he wanted to try and make amends for what he had done to Celeste.

All he really wanted now was to look…he just wanted one look before his flight took off in the next three hours, one look at the son he never had a chance to meet, and make sure he was all right. It didn't matter if they met or not—in fact, it was almost preferable that they shouldn't meet at all.

"Oi, Raph! C'mon chum, wait up!"

The voice startled him out of his thoughts, and he looked up sharply to find the source; it was not that hard to mistake that accent, especially since he himself had it (though it had softened over the years and was not so noticeable). It took only a few seconds before his eyes landed on two people across the street; it seemed they were leaving a grocery store, evidenced by the plastic bags that each of them were holding.

His eyes only glanced at the taller of the two (a muscular looking man with cropped blonde hair) before they went to the shorter male, and he felt himself stiffen.

By God, there he was.

The boy was about seventeen, possessing the same well-built body that he himself had but not the height; in fact, it seemed that he had inherited most of his mother's features, he thought to himself wryly. Fair enough—Celeste had been the only one who had fought for the child's welfare, so it was only right that their son take after her in appearance.

He instantly began looking the teenager over, checking for any sign of disability or weakness. When he didn't find any, a strange sense of relief hit him and he couldn't help but smile. It was his boy…a perfectly healthy, strong boy who did not seem to be any worse for the wear for what he had been through.

Not everything seemed to come from his mother, he noticed as his smile grew bigger. There was no mistaking that carefree attitude that surrounded the other Australian—he had held a similar attitude once.

The boy, who had been placing his load of grocery bags in the back of the car, turned to talk to his older companion. But as he did so it meant that it put his father into view and he felt himself freeze as the teenager's eyes locked onto his.

Those were her eyes. Those light, almost baby blue eyes were _hers_…_oh Celly, look at 'im…_

For one moment, those eyes looked back at him and it was as if the boy recognized him somehow—which should not be possible. Celeste never had gotten one of his pictures, and she was not the best artist in the world. Yet for just a moment, he could have sworn that he saw something flickering in the blue orbs…maybe his child did know just who he was looking at.

It seemed like it was eternity before the boy's gaze went elsewhere, though it had only been seconds at the most, and the teenager bounded cheerfully to the passenger side of the car. He very nearly bounced into the seat with an enthusiasm that made him smile in spite of himself.

Yep. He may look like his mother, but that personality was _definitely_ something he'd had once.

He hesitated a moment longer before turning and beginning to walk down the sidewalk, hailing a taxi moments later before slipping inside it. He would not approach his son—no, he could not. He had lost that right when he had abandoned Celeste.

But he had made certain that the boy was happy and that he was thriving where he was; had he bumped into the Angliss' or had they succeeded in gaining Valon back, there would have been Hell to pay. This was all he could really do for the moment—he could not muster up the courage to speak to his child.

"Airport, please," he said quietly, leaning into the seat as the car inched back into traffic.


	95. A Matter of Pride and Ketchup

_YES! HA HA!_

_It took a lot of finagling, but I managed to get back on FanFiction; for some reason, I can only get sporadic access to my profile and to my account, which both annoys me and troubles me. In any event, I figure I best stick something up before my computer strikes back._

_Set during DOOM, leave reviews on your way out, and don't forget to vote on my new poll later_

* * *

"C'mon, you little blighter! Quit givin' me a 'ard time 'n' just…oh not again!"

Alister watched him from across the table as he idly picked up a French fry. "Valon, it can't be that hard," he said. "You've had plenty of practice with the first six packets, though that one in your hand makes it seven."

"The buggers are tricky!" Valon snapped, glaring at his older companions and silently daring them to start laughing as he dropped the packet on a pile of similarly unopened condiment packages. "They're tauntin' me, I know it! Bloody li'l buggers jus' like bein' difficult!"

Raphael, who was about halfway finished with his own meal and was next to Valon, held an amused expression on his face as he watched the teenager's struggles. "Do you need any help?" he asked at last, eyeing the pile of ketchup packets with raised eyebrows. He made a mental note not to drop anything on them; contents under pressure were never fun to mess with.

"'m perfectly capable of openin' it!" Valon said indignantly, scowling at his older friends. "I'll 'ave you know tha' I've been fightin' this battle f'r years! It's one that's been 'ere since the dawn of time; I've been at this struggle for countless centuries. But not today…t'day, I'm gonna win one for my country and my people and—open—this—stupid—thing!" he said as he tugged on the packet, the last part of his sentence punctuated by growls.

"Don't you think you're taking this just a little too seriously?" Raphael said with a small modicum of disbelief in his voice.

Alister rolled his eyes. "Valon's waging war with a ketchup packet. What do you think?"

Returning his attention to the brunette, the red-haired biker said boredly, "Can't you simply go without ketchup on your hamburger?"

"No! Every 'amburger needs ketchup!"

"Why not simply use a ketchup bottle?" asked Raphael curiously, dipping his head to a table across from them.

"B'cause I'm not gonna let some stupid packet make my life mis'rable! It's a matter o' pride—I'll open this thing if it's the last thing I do!"

Whatever the elder blonde had been about to say in reply was lost when Gurimo stepped over to them, carrying his food on the tray and eyeing it with evident disdain.

"I sincerely wish that we had found someplace else to eat instead of this fast food hole in the wall," he said stiffly, setting himself down near Alister (with great reluctance; the idea of sitting next to the other man was clearly was not appealing to him and the glare Alister had on his face mirrored the sentiment). "I'm certain that the waitress _spat_ in my food."

"If she did I'm finding a way to tip her generously," muttered the redhead loud enough for Raphael to hear. The older man smiled into his drink, making certain that Gurimo was not paying attention, but otherwise did nothing else.

"'m sorry, Kuriboh, but if I get 'ungry I get sleepy 'n' then I fall off m' bike 'n' then what are ya gonna do?" said Valon with a shrug, growling as he dropped another ketchup packet on the pile he had accumulated. "We'd 'ave an 'unnecessary delay' a' the nearest 'ospital."

"My name, you stupid little brat, is Gurimo. Not Kuriboh—Gurimo. And if you had eaten instead of sleeping in you would not have had this problem."

"Look, you practically shoved me outta bed this mornin' at…wha', four, five? Just so we could get a 'ead start on our mission. Not t' mention tha' you didn' let me get anythin' t' eat. O' course I'm gonna be 'ungry—I 'aven' eaten f'r a good six 'ours."

"That," sniffed Gurimo, "was because we were running late and you refused to wake up. It is not my fault you slept through your alarm."

The Australian made a face at him when the other man was not looking and seemed sorely tempted to pour salt in the man's ice tea, but Raphael very calmly picked up the salt canister and set it near Alister. Valon pouted before returning his attention to yet another packet.

"This food is disgusting," Gurimo continued, eyeing his salad. "We should have tried to find some place else to eat."

"Oh come on. It's an 'amburger joint, 'n' it's jus' fine f'r eatin'. B'sides, i's not like you're gonna die a greasy death from lettuce. Tha's a veggie."

The monocled man scowled. "Lord knows what was crawling around in the lettuce. For all I know a frog could have hatched in here, this restaurant is so vile."

The redhead coughed loudly, and Valon could swear he heard "hope you choke," somewhere in there. He snickered, returning his attention to the ketchup packet in his hand and growling when it still refused to open. He snarled in frustration, dropping it onto the top of the pile.

Alister arched an eyebrow at the packets near Valon's tray. "Are you sure you don't want help?"

"If I 'ave t' tell you blokes one more time tha' I don' need 'elp I'm gonna strangle ya," Valon snapped murderously. He picked up another ketchup packet and began fiddling with it, trying to open it up once more.

Of course, this latest effort met with failure once again and Valon scowled at the ketchup pile. "I freakin' 'ate you, you dumb thing! _DIE!_" he snarled at the packet, bringing his fist up to slam it on the table.

What Valon seemed to have forgotten was that directly where his fist was going to hit the table were ten highly pressurized packets of ketchup, all of which were sitting in a pile.

Just before his fist came down, Alister and Raphael both saw just what was going to be impacted and their eyes widened in alarm. "Valon, don't—!"

Too late.

With an oddly loud and squelching sound, Valon's fist hit the ketchup packets and they exploded, sending their contents in every direction. Alister had just enough time to reach for his empty tray and duck behind it before the ketchup hit him and Valon was only splattered with a margin of it, but Raphael and Gurimo were not so lucky.

The blonde, who was sitting next to Valon, had no chance at all to duck and threw up his arms to at least shield his face. It worked for the most part, but that meant Raphael's jacket was now covered by the condiment and small flecks of ketchup still ended up in his hair.

Gurimo, however, had no warning of all about what Valon had done and looked up in time to catch a faceful of the ketchup; it seemed that most of the packets had ended up facing Gurimo over the course of Valon's attempts to open them. The ensuing result was that Gurimo's food and his face was covered by the ketchup. "My eye!" he yelped loudly, causing everyone around them to look at their table.

Alister cautiously peered out from behind the tray. "Is it over?" he asked, warily eyeing Valon (who held a stunned expression on his face).

"I can assume so," said Raphael as he lowered his arms, grimacing at the ketchup on his arms. "The only casualty I have is my coat."

"I'm not fine!" snapped Gurimo furiously. "The brat got ketchup in my eye! I need to wash it out before I get blinded!" he continued as he rose to his feet, stomping toward the restroom and ignoring the looks of the bystanders around him.

"What a tragedy," Alister supplied flatly.

Valon stared after Gurimo's retreating back before turning to regard his two older friends with a guilty and sheepish expression. He opened his mouth to apologize when his eyes went to his food; the blue orbs instantly lit up with delight.

"Well, 'ey! I 'ave ketchup on my burger now!" he announced cheerfully, ignoring the incredulous expressions on his companion's faces, placing the bun over the hamburger once again to take a bite from it. "_Excellent!_"

"…And at the end of the day, I guess that's all that matters," said Raphael at length, exasperated amusement clearly visible on his face.


	96. Of Turkeys and Pilgrims

_Here's the Thanksgiving special!_

_I'm sorry if it has grammar issues. Let me know if you see any—Microsoft Word is still out of commission and I had to type this up in the Document Manager on FanFiction._

_On a note, the bikers aren't too familiar with a certain topic because they've never really encountered it that often; that will make more sense once you start reading._

_Post-DOOM, leave reviews, and I hope you have a Happy Thanksgiving!_

* * *

Marik wrinkled his nose in distaste. "I don't see the point behind it."

Valon looked over at him, tilting his head thoughtfully. He had been kicked out of the house while his older friends made the Thanksgiving dinner (in their own words: "You'll either blow up something or eat everything in sight."). As a result, the Australian had wandered over to Marik's home to pass the time. "Wha' do you mean?" he asked now.

The Egyptian pointed to the television set with a grimace, pointing at the large floating turkey that floated over the crowd. "That."

"…The parade?"

"No," said Marik exasperatedly. "I mean the turkey."

This comment baffled Valon entirely. The other teenager at times seemed to know more than the Australian, but at times Marik would completely astound him by asking a question whose answer was rather common (like that one time Marik had asked him what hot cocoa was). It seemed that in certain areas that he possessed a naïveté attitude that more than once manifested itself.

[In actuality, this was something Valon should be entirely familiar with. He just never seemed to connect the dots.]

"Okay…wha' 'bout the turkey?" he asked at last, regarding his friend with confused blue eyes.

"Why do you eat turkeys on Thanksgiving?" Marik asked bluntly, realizing that Valon did not understand the question he was being asked.

Almost immediately Valon grasped what the other boy was asking and he couldn't help but grin. "Why not? Not ev'ryone eats veggies and tofu."

Marik flinched, shuddering in horror and looking at the other teen with a mortified expression. "God help us if we ever have to eat that vile substance," he said, grimacing at the thought. "We may be vegetarians, but I'm not about to consume something that has the consistency of spongified mayonnaise."

The blonde looked over at Valon again, the humor vanishing from his eyes as he said, "All jokes aside, though. Why a turkey?" he inquired, watching the brunette with a curious expression.

Valon frowned in thought at that. "Y'know…t' be 'onest I don' reckon I know," he said. "Raph's from France 'n' accordin' t' 'im they never 'ad Thanksgivin'. I'm certain we never 'ad it, though we'd sometimes 'ave a turkey f'r Christmas dinner. I don' know if Alister 'as, though…maybe 'e knows."

Marik grimaced again, looking out the window at the leaves swirling through the air. "Do we really have to cross the street? It's cold out there," he said unhappily.

Valon shook his head. "Naw. If I walked in the 'ouse the fellas would kick me outta there faster than I could blink," he replied, reaching for his cell phone. "Alister might 'ave 'is phone on 'im," he continued, dialing the number.

It took only two rings before Alister's annoyed voice said, "_No, Valon, we haven't finished over here. You may not come back yet."_

"I wasn' gonna ask that!"

"_Right."_

"Seriously!"

"_Uh huh. Pull the other one."_

"…Okay, fine, that's part o' it. But I need t' ask ya somethin', so don' 'ang up," Valon said quickly, knowing it was likely his red-haired friend was contemplating it.

"_Make it fast."_

Valon blinked, surprised that Alister was actually going to humor him, before hurriedly asking, "Why do we eat turkeys on Thanksgivin'?"

There was a distinct pause. "_…Hold on a minute."_

Alister must have put his hand over the speaker, because Valon could hear a vague murmur that sounded oddly muffled; it was likely Alister was asking Raphael, although he could also very well be explaining what Valon was calling about.

Marik looked over curiously. "What's he saying?" he asked quietly.

"I dunno," Valon replied. "'e told me t' 'ang on f'r a bit. I dunno wha' 'e's up to."

A few minutes later Alister's voice came back over the phone. "_We eat a turkey because back when the pilgrims landed on Plymouth Rock they had nothing to eat except turkeys, corn, and other vegetables. There's something about Indians that I don't rightly understand, but that's the gist of it. Gurimo's the one who insisted on a turkey while we were in DOOM, so I guess we adopted the idea."_

"Did you ask Raph tha'?"

"_No. The internet is a _marvelous _tool."_

"Ohh…thanks, mate!" Valon said cheerfully, hanging up. He relayed the information to Marik (minus the Gurimo aspect of the conversation) and the other teenager nodded.

"That does make sense," he said slowly before he frowned again. "Your friends don't seem to know that much about it."

"They've never really celebrated it, mate. We just kinda picked it up along the way, really," said Valon with a shrug.

"Wait…what pilgrims was Alister talking about?"

Valon blinked. "I dunno. Should I ask again?" he said, holding the phone up again.

"Why not?" Marik replied, watching Valon begin to dial the phone number again. This time, Valon put the phone on speaker and waited patiently for Alister to answer.

"_Valon, if this is going to become a habit until you come back I'm going to turn my phone off and disconnect the house phone," _Alister snapped a few seconds later.

"Sorry, Alister," said Valon, not fazed by the irritated comment. "You mentioned pilgrims earlier…wha' pilgrims were you talkin' about?"

There was another long pause, during which Marik looked at Valon uncertainly. "Are we bothering him?" he asked quietly

"Naw. Alister's always tha' cranky when 'e sees 'm callin'," said the other boy nonchalantly in a whisper. "'e doesn' mean it though."

A few seconds later Raphael's voice came on the phone. "_Alister said you were asking about something?"_

"Yeah. What pilgrims are involved in Thanksgivin'?"

"…_Those would be the pilgrims who sailed over in the Mayflower to land on Plymouth Rock in Virginia,"_ replied Raphael a moment later. "_They were coming over to practice religious freedom, since in England they weren't allowed to. I don't really know much more beyond that, except that Thanksgiving was celebrated because of the pilgrims…I remember having that explained to me when I was younger, but beyond that…"_

"Tha's all right, Raph. That'll work!" Valon said. "Thanks!"

When Valon hung up, Marik still had a frown on his face. "Alister mentioned something about Indians too," he said with a frown. "I don't want to disturb him again, though…think Ishizu will let us borrow the computer?"

Valon grinned. "If we give 'er the puppy dog eyes, I'm sure your sister'll let us."

* * *

"Valon, really. How is it that you managed to blow up the Ishtar's kitchen?" inquired Alister

"I didn' blow up the kitchen!" Valon said indignantly, covered head to foot in mashed potatoes. "It was an accident anyway! I bumped the stove 'n' the next thing I know 'm covered in potatoes."

Raphael sighed. "Do we need to pay for anything?"

"Nope. Nothing got broke—,"

"There's a surprise," muttered Alister.

"—'n' no one got 'urt. On'y thing wrong 'ere is that 'm covered in p'tatoes. Don' worry, Raph," he said, noticing Raphael's stern look. "I 'elped clean up the kitchen b'fore I came back 'ere."

Raphael shook his head wearily. "Why don't you go get cleaned up? Dinner's about ready, anyways," he said.

Valon grinned. "Aye, cap'n!"

The Australian was halfway to the stairs when he glanced back at his older companions. "By the way, fellas, I found out more 'bout the pilgrims 'n' whatnot I was askin' 'bout earlier. I's kinda interestin'…"


	97. Patience of Job

_…Ehhhh._

_My muses all agreed on this idea while ago and I found that I had written it all out before I quite realized what I had; I unearthed it in one of my many document searches (I _seriously_ need to organize my documents better) and as a result we have…this thing._

_Set during DOOM, between "Like Riding a Bike" and "Caught in the Current", and PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE review._

* * *

Raphael liked to think of himself as an extremely patient man and one who could tolerate anything thrown at him, but right now that patience was being severely tested.

Currently, all three of them were boarded on the plane that was taking them back to the DOOM temple; Gurimo had remained back at the Paradius headquarters to deliver his report to Dartz (who was there mainly to assure the public of his CEO status) and had sent his 'charges'—a word that annoyed all of them—back to the temple. This was the second time that they were riding in a plane that day; the first had been a plane that had taken them from Italy back to Atlanta, since they had spent a week there for an assignment from Dartz.

It was not the fact that the two younger bikers had been arguing since they had set foot on this plane; Raphael could tolerate and moderate most of the often mundane arguments that Alister and Valon could get into in a matter of seconds. Nor was it the fact that his patience was being pushed to its limits because all three had jet lag and were exhausted; the only one who had gotten sleep on the way home had been Gurimo, who had put earplugs in his ears on the first flight and had slept the entire way back to Paradius.

No, what was testing Raphael severely at this point was the fact that he had just spent _twelve hours_ breaking up the twenty or so arguments that Alister and Valon had engaged in, the topics of which ranging from the authenticity of Alister's hair color to whether or not Valon had placed a purple shirt in with one of Alister's tank tops, dying it lavender.

Right now, Raphael was severely torn between laughing at the ridiculousness of it all and actually hitting both of the younger bikers. The last option was sorely tempting.

"…'m tellin' ya, the safe'ouse was on the left!"

"No, it was the right. Don't you remember the grocery store was on the left?" said Alister with a sigh.

"Nuh uh! You were on the right, which is why I know the safe'ouse was on the left!" Valon countered indignantly. "I was payin' attention!"

"Sure, because you do that on a regular basis," retorted the red-haired man with a snort. "It was on the right."

"Left!"

"Right."

"Left!"

"Right."

"Left!"

"Left."

"Right—wait! Tha' doesn' count!"

"It does. You agreed with me."

"You tricked me! Tha' doesn' count!"

"Trick or not, you said right. It counts."

"It does not!"

Realizing that this was going to lead to yet another argument, Raphael felt what little patience he had slip away and he reached for his motorcycle helmet, preparing to exit the plane. If he didn't make himself unavailable now he was going to be dragged into—

"Raph, was tha' a trick?" Valon asked impatiently then, directing his attention at the older man. "C'mon, you can' tell me tha' wasn' a trick!"

"Raphael doesn't always know everything, Valon, so quit pestering him," said Alister boredly, putting a hand on his chin as he waited for the hatch to open.

"I'm not pesterin' 'im!" Valon snapped indignantly, pulling his goggles over his eyes and sitting on the motorcycle.

"You are."

Raphael inwardly groaned. Not another one…

"Am not!"

"Yes you—"

"_Enough already!"_

The sharply spoken command completely startled Valon and Alister jumped, his gray eyes widening in almost comical surprise. They looked back at Raphael, whose entire demeanor was silently warning them to tread lightly around him. His blue eyes were tired and irritated and he was actually glaring at the younger bikers with an annoyed scowl.

"You are not going to make me into your latest argument. I am NOT your referee, either," he continued sharply, glowering at them. "I've put up with it until now, but if I have to break up one more pointless argument I'm getting myself transferred so I can work with people who can actually get along and don't give me a headache five minutes after they start talking!" he finished angrily, putting his helmet on without waiting for a reply and revving his motorcycle.

He was actually the first one out of the plane and the first one back to the DOOM temple, but it was not until he had reached his bedroom door before he hesitated, leaning against it tiredly. Maybe he shouldn't have threatened them like that, he reflected as he slipped into the room. He had been tired and irritable, and his patience had been stretched thin; that was not much of an excuse to snap at them, though. He wanted to apologize, he really did—what Raphael had said had been unnecessarily harsh for something that trivial.

Raphael dropped the rucksack near his nightstand and flopped onto the mattress, closing his eyes and rubbing them tiredly. He was exhausted and he would have loved nothing better than to drop off to sleep, but he really needed to apologize to Alister and Valon before he slept. Their actions had not warranted that response.

He was still brooding over the incident ten minutes later when a familiar voice broke into his thoughts with a quiet, "You look tired."

Raphael nearly fell off the bed in surprise, his head turning to the window sharply in time to watch Alister slip in from the window and perch on the windowsill. The redhead was watching him emotionlessly, his gray eyes holding no clues as to what he was thinking. "I wondered if you would be asleep by now, but looks like you aren't. By the way, your window's unlocked."

"…Not to sound rude, but…what are you doing?"

Alister shrugged. "I got bored. I noticed there was a narrow pathway near my window and figured I'd take a leaf out of Valon's book to see where it led."

Raphael sat up a bit more, raising his eyebrows at the distasteful expression on Alister's face. "You make it sound like it's a bad thing," he said wryly.

A faint smirk danced on the other man's features before abruptly vanishing again. "Speaking of Valon, he's worried," said the redhead flatly, but there was something almost sharp and analyzing in his gaze now. "He's afraid you really are going to transfer to another location."

The blonde sighed, tilting his head back against the pillow. "I wondered about that," he said, half to himself.

"Are you?"

Raphael blinked, looking back at Alister with a frown. "You really think I would?" he asked incredulously. "I said that because the two of you wouldn't stop arguing and at that point I let my temper get the better of me. I don't think Master Dartz would let me transfer, even if I wanted to."

Alister continued to gaze at him quietly for a moment. "If that's what you look like when you lose your temper, then I don't have much to worry about," he said at last. "I figured you were bluffing. Don't apologize to me for it," he continued, seeming to guess what Raphael was planning on doing. "You somehow seem to end up refereeing most of our arguments, and that's really not fair. It's easy to forget that you can get annoyed too."

"That still isn't an excuse to take it out on others."

The redhead raised an eyebrow. "You may have the patience of Job, but everyone loses their temper at least once," he replied boredly. "I would have been surprised if you _hadn't _lashed out. I would have snapped two hours into the flight; you lasted until the last three minutes. That's impressive."

Raphael did not have a chance to reply to that, for Alister's head had picked up and he was staring intently at the door. "And if I'm not much mistaken," he began in a low but audible tone, tipping his head to the bedroom's entrance, "I suspect Valon's standing at your door right now, trying to figure out how to ask if you're really leaving. I'm guessing he's only been there for a couple seconds, though."

As Raphael turned to regard the door, the other man slipped back to the window and went out it; the blonde caught the movement from the corner of his eyes and shook his head. He had figured Alister would do that—the red-haired biker was not social to begin with, and he had likely used up however much time he devoted to "socializing."

A knock at the door caught his attention. "Raph?"

"Door's open, Valon," he called, sitting up entirely as the door opened.

Valon appeared in the doorway, nervously picking at the straps on his gloves. The boy looked up anxiously at his older companion after a few seconds, his cerulean eyes watching him warily. "Are you really gonna transfer outta 'ere, Raph?" he asked timidly.

"…I'm not," he replied as he rose to his feet. He was hungry and decided he could at least get something to eat before he went to bed. "I didn't mean that. I just got tired of listening to you and Alister fighting, so I said the first thing that came to mind. Probably not one of my better ideas, though," he said with a grimace.

Relief lit the teenager's face and his countenance brightened. "Tha's good t' 'ear," he said brightly, though the look vanished to be replaced by a troubled one. "Alister reckoned you got mad 'cause you 'ad t' listen t' us the whole way 'ome. Sorry 'bout all tha'," he said guiltily. "I didn' realize it was annoyin' ya so much 'til you yelled at us."

Ah…that explained the visit, Raphael mused. Alister must have known Valon would stop by, and since the redhead did not talk to Valon (civilly, at any rate) he had come in to confirm things for himself. It certainly fit with what he had gleaned from the slender young man's behavior; Alister certainly would not ask Valon about the issue.

"It's fine," he said aloud as he passed Valon in the doorway. "I'm sorry I snapped at you both."

Valon made a face. "Raph, we prob'ly warranted it," he said, following after him. "It'd drive any bloke crazy if they 'ad to listen to us for hours on end."

He eyed the taller man for a moment. "I don' s'ppose you're making somethin' t' eat?" he asked innocently.

"Yes, Valon, I'll make you something since you seem to keep blowing things up whenever you try to cook something," Raphael said in amusement as they headed for the kitchen.


	98. Knight in Shining Armor

_LOL…wooow. I forgot about this one, too. My bunnies loved this one and wouldn't let me leave until I wrote it and posted it._

_Set in pre-canon (WAAAAY pre-canon) and we're seeing a very familiar couple in this one. Leave me reviews on the way out…please? Pretty please?_

_…I'm on my knees and begging you guys to review._

* * *

"Jonathan!"

He blinked, looking around him with a baffled expression. He could have _sworn _he heard someone call his name. But the ten year old saw no one on his lawn, so he shrugged and returned his attention to his classwork. He had decided to do it outside for a change, since the weather was pleasant, and he was currently seated at the patio table with the small pile of his textbooks.

"Jonathaaan!"

He looked up again, gray eyes sweeping across and going in all directions before he gave up again and sighed, looking down at his math homework. It should not be so difficult; long division was one of the more easier subjects that he—

"JONATHAN! HELP!"

That made the boy's head snap up at last, setting the book down on the table as he scanned his surroundings intently. His eyes went to the large oak tree across the street and Jonathan nearly passed it over until he saw a flash of red and a frantically waving arm; whoever was calling him, however, was very high off the ground. He had heard his father mention that the tree was about twenty-five feet high, and the person calling him was about three quarters of the way up.

Jonathan rose from his seat and ran to the front gate, pausing only a moment to ensure that there was not a car coming down the road before crossing it and heading to the base of the tree to look up into the tangled branches intently.

"How on earth did you get up there?" he called up, waiting until a girl's face appeared in a gap in the foliage.

Rosalie's face was pale and her blue-gray eyes were wide with fright. "Jonathan, get me down!" she wailed, her red and curly pigtails askew and her eyes brimming with tears. "Please!"

The boy carefully scanned the trunk of the tree before he grabbed a low hanging branch and used it to swing into the body of the tree; he nearly lost his balance but at the last second pushed himself upright with a flailing hand. Once inside the body of the tree, Jonathan easily began to scale the closely growing tree branches until he was just below the girl.

"Let me ask again, now: how did you get up here?" he asked.

Rosalie was straddling one of the tree branches and clinging to the trunk disconsolately. "I climbed up here," she whimpered unhappily.

"I can see that," he said wryly. "Why don't you climb down?"

Rosalie whimpered again. "…I'm afraid of heights."

Jonathan felt his mouth drop open as he looked up at the girl. "You're…if you're so afraid of heights, then why did you climb the tree to begin with?" he asked incredulously.

The girl sniffled, clinging to her rabbit (how she managed to climb seventeen feet in the air with her stuffed rabbit in tow would forever remain a mystery to him) and burying her head in her sleeve. "B'cause they said only boys are allowed to climb trees and I wanted to prove them wrong."

"Who's they?" asked Jonathan, although he had a fairly good guess as to who had taunted the younger girl.

"Tommy and Blake," she replied miserably. "They were down there earlier, watching me climb, but then they ran off and I looked down and got scared. Now I'm stuck up here and…and…I want to get _down_!" Rosalie wailed, crying again.

Jonathan narrowed his eyes. The other boys could have at least stayed behind to help her down…it was certain he would be having a not-so-friendly chat (likely to end in a fist fight, knowing them) with the boys in question, if not letting their parents know what happened. He looked back up to Rosalie and despite himself felt his eyes soften.

"Hey," he said gently. "I'm here now. I'll help you down."

"Really?" replied Rosalie hopefully, her eyes lighting up.

"Give me a minute to think, and then I'll have you out of this tree in no time," stated Jonathan resolutely.

He eyed the branches around him and plotted his way down for a few minutes before he looked back to the nine year old once again. "Here's what you're going to do. You're going to let go of the tree trunk—"

"_NO!"_

"—and then you're going to come down to me and I'll help you get down," he continued, ignoring Rosalie's horrified objection.

"Jonathan, I can't…I _can't!" _she whimpered, her grip around the trunk tightening. "I'll fall!"

"It's the only way to get you down. I can't get up there any higher because the tree branches can't hold my weight; I'm surprised it's held yours for this long. Now come on: I'm not going to let you go. I promise. I'll help you all the way down."

Rosalie wavered, but then she shook her head stubbornly and buried her head in her jacket again. "No…" she whined. "Jonathan, I can't."

The boy sighed. At this rate, the two of them would be up there all night, until either his parents noticed him in the tree (he hoped that wouldn't happen; he wasn't supposed to climb this tree) or until the branch Rosalie was on snapped (he _really_ hoped that wouldn't happen).

An idea suddenly occurred to him and he looked back to Rosalie with a wicked smirk. "If you don't let go of that trunk and come down to me, I'll call you Rosie for the rest of your life."

The little girl's head lifted sharply and she glared at him with a mixture of anger and fear. "You wouldn't."

"Ring around the Rosie, Rosie Rosie Rosie," he sang cheerfully, noting that the girl's grip was loosening on the trunk. "What's wrong, Rosie? Didn't think I would call your bluff?"

She glared at him for one more moment before she held her bunny out to him. "Hold Carrots," she said firmly, waiting until Jonathan took the rabbit to release the trunk entirely. She hesitated, staring down at the ground with fear.

_Get her attention away from the ground._

"Rosie, come on. We're not getting any younger," he said while the girl sat uncertainly on the branch.

Blue-gray eyes narrowed and then Rosalie was slowly lowering herself down to him. "You won't let me fall, right?" she asked, fear tingeing her voice.

"I swear it, Rosalie," he said firmly as he lifted his arms up to help her down. "Just look at me and pretend the ground's not there, okay?"

It took them about twenty minutes to get down from the tree, since Rosalie would balk every time she looked down at the ground; Jonathan kept her going by continuing to use her despised nickname, but more than once he was afraid that Rosalie would fall or he would lose his balance. At last, however, Jonathan's feet were touching solid ground and he watched Rosalie lower herself out of the tree.

"Land!" she squealed in delight, promptly flopping on the plush grass and giggling madly. "I'm _never_ leaving it again, never ever!"

"I'm glad you're happy," grumped Jonathan. "I'm behind on my homework because of you."

The girl looked up at him thoughtfully. "But you saved me," she said solemnly. "I would have never gotten down if you hadn't helped me."

Jonathan looked away to hide the embarrassed flush, scowling. "Yeah, well…I doubt your mom would have let me live if she found out that you were stuck up there and I did nothing to help you," he said irritably.

"…Thank you," came the soft reply moments later, and then Rosalie was hugging him tightly.

Jonathan's flush deepened and he awkwardly returned the hug. "Er…I think Mum made cookies, if you want to stop and get some before you go home. I don't think she'll mind," he said shyly (mentally grimacing at his tone).

The girl looked up at him wordlessly for a moment before cheering loudly and grabbing his wrist, dragging him forward. "Cookies!" she squealed, hurrying toward his house. "My knight in shining armor saved me and is offering me cookies! Best day _ever!_"

"What—wait—Rosalie, don't call me that!"


	99. Letters To Santa

_I was watching a show the other day and my bunnies loved the subject, so here we are. I wrote this while running on an hour of sleep, though, so keep your eyes out for grammar issues. It's kind of short but...ah well. My bunnies like it the way it is._

_Each of these are set in different time frames, and if you don't figure it out I'll put the ages the letters were written at the end of the shot. Leave reviews on the way out!_

* * *

Dear Santa Claus:

I don't really want anything this year, since Mama and Papa are happy and I like my new baby sister. If you want to give me something anyway, I would like a couple of new books for Papa to read to me, a little piano for me to play with since I cannot reach the big piano, and a starter deck of Duel Monsters cards because my cousins seem to like it and it seems like it would be fun to play.

If it is not too much trouble, can I have a kitten as well? I've been very well-behaved this year, so may I have one so that Sonia and I can play with it?

Sincerely,

Raphael Knighton

PS: Mama's not riting four me anymoar becuz Sonia started crying and she haz to taek car uv her, but I haf to ask. Pleeze fix Bastion. He broked becuz Sonia puled his arm off by accident and I don't want a new teddy bear becuz grandma gaeve him to me and he's special. Also maek Antie nycer. She's scary and mean.

* * *

Dear Santa:

I've been really good this year and haven't done anything bad. Since I was so good this year I would like to have my dad back. I don't know where he is, but when I ask Mom where Dad went she gets upset and says he went on vacation. I think he's been gone long enough, though, so could you please tell him that me and Mom and baby Miruko miss him and that he has to come home?

Also, I would like a remote control car, that spy kit I saw at the store, the latest Dyna Dude action figure, a blanket for Miruko, and for the war (whatever that is) to be over. Mama wants that too—she's always sad now because of it and I want it to be over with.

Signed,

Alister Gayle

* * *

To The Old Fat Bloke:

Raph taught me my letters and stuff and I wanted to write this because I saw it on television the other day and it looked like fun. I've been trying to be good but I did end up in jail last year. I'm doing my best since then, though, so please don't get me coal. That's kinda useless.

I would like to have some fireworks and stuff to prank Alister with because I want to scare the pants off of him. I would also like to have a blue GameBoy and some good games to play, and a pair of goggles to wear on my head (because they look awesome).

If nothing else, then rebuild Mother Mary's church. She loved that place and I don't want it to stay ruined.

-Valon

PS: Don't tell Alister I wrote this. He thinks this is stupid but he's a stick in the mud anyway.

PPS: I'm sorry that my grammar's so bad and if you can't read my writing. Raph's helped me with spelling out words but I still don't know all those grammar rules and stuff_._

PPPS: …If I ask you to have Gurimo's hair fall out or for him to jump off a bridge, does that mean I don't get anything but coal?

* * *

_Ages:_

_Raphael: 4 (Lilith was writing for him. Obviously, he's not quite got the hang of writing anything yet)_

_Alister: 7 _

_Valon: 14 _

_Thanks for reading!_


	100. Dislocated

_While studying for a final my bunnies sprang on this and said, "Hey, you're studying all this stuff anyway. Why not write a little bit about it as well?" I was annoyed with them (because I have to take a really difficult exam Monday and I really shouldn't be posting at all), but they wouldn't lay off until I wrote it down._

_Set during episode 155 (not actual canon, mind) and leave me reviews because OMG IT'S THE HUNDREDTH CHAPTER!_

* * *

Alister rolled his eyes as he replied to the orders being transmitted over the radio. According to the Dueling Satellite that Paradius had "borrowed" from Pegasus, the duel between Jounouchi and Mai had concluded with no clear victor (he was willing to bet Mai would have lost) and Raphael and Valon needed to be picked up; Mai had stolen Valon's motorcycle again and Raphael had sent in the request for air transport.

Alister was in the vicinity anyway, so he figured that he might as well get them; he had been flying one of the cargo helicopters from the airport in Los Angeles to report back at the nearest Paradius building. He didn't understand just why Valon could not ride on the back of Raphael's motorcycle, but he supposed that he would find out when he got there. Raphael was not one to call for a helicopter unless it was absolutely necessary.

As he finished passing the tall tower of the Industrial Illusions headquarters, his gray eyes began roaming the canyon mesas for a sign of his associates; a few minutes later, his eyes had locked onto a tall and familiar figure standing near the edge of one of the mesas and it was moments after that when the helicopter touched down.

Raphael had turned back to face the helicopter, eyes lighting with both relief and recognition as he motioned for Alister to turn the aircraft off; the redhead only needed to look near Raphael's motorcycle at the slumped teenager cradling his arm before he instantly cut the power, moving out of the pilot's seat to exit out of the body of the helicopter.

"What happened?" he asked just a tad too sharply, tipping his head toward Valon's body and in spite of himself getting worried.

"Valon released the Seal during Mai's duel and I think he dislocated his shoulder," Raphael said brusquely, though Alister did not miss the concern that flashed in the other man's eyes.

He also did not miss the slightly disgusted note in the man's voice when he mentioned Mai's name and he repressed an irritated scowl. It did not take much of a genius to figure out what had happened: Valon had risked his life yet again to protect Mai and she had blown it off, likely spewing insults at the both of them before leaving. Why was that not surprising?

Alister passed the older blonde, making his way toward Valon and bending down to eye the boy's arm critically. "What did he do, punch it?" he asked Raphael sarcastically, noting the squared-off appearance of the shoulder as he examined Valon's hand for broken bones. Yep—that shoulder was definitely dislocated.

Valon opened his eyes and glared up at him irritably, proving that he still had his soul intact. "'s exactly wha' I did," he said with a mixture of pride and annoyance.

"You're a moron," Alister said automatically (it had become more out of habit than anything else to say that), carefully undoing the straps of the boy's shoulder pad and freeing the wounded appendage from it. His fingers gently prodded around the shoulder and his eyes narrowed, trying to feel for a fracture or for a muscle tear. Valon hissed under his breath and jerked a few times, but beyond that did not move.

Alister sighed, eyeing the shoulder before he looked to Valon. "Is this the first time you've dislocated your shoulder?"

"…No. Did it a couple o' times when I was younger," Valon began hesitantly, frowning when Alister scooted closer to him and took hold of his wrist with one hand and his elbow with the other. "What're ya gonna do?"

Alister said nothing, instead choosing to pull and twist Valon's wounded arm expertly. The boy was caught off guard and let out a strangled scream as an audible pop sounded in the air; Raphael had jumped at the sound of Valon's shoulder shifting back into place and was now watching the teenager with an openly anxious expression.

"I normally wouldn't have reduced it, but I don't think you broke anything and if this isn't the first time you've dislocated it I don't have to worry too much about muscle and ligament tears; I didn't feel anything in the muscle body," Alister said mechanically, ignoring Valon's near ragged sobs as he doubled over and held his arm close to him. "All the same, you're going to need a doctor to look at it to make certain that your shoulder's all right."

"'n' this couldn' 'ave waited 'til we got back?" Valon said through gritted teeth, gingerly moving his arm before howling and holding it close to him again. Raphael moved to the boy's side and carefully pulled him to his feet, making certain not to touch the boy's injured shoulder in the slightest.

The red-haired biker undid one of the belts around his waist, using it as a sling to gently pull Valon's arm close to his body. "Don't move it, stupid. I reduced it here because it's going to take us at least two to three hours to get you back to Paradius, there's a distinct amount of turbulence in the skies today, and I don't fancy being distracted by a yelling moron in the back seat every time he gets jostled," he said flatly, buckling the belt behind the boy's opposite shoulder.

He looked to Raphael and said, "Get him situated in the helicopter. I'll get your motorcycle—I have no doubt Mai's already halfway back to Paradius with Valon's bike, if she decides to go back at all," he said, already walking to where the black motorcycle was parked.

As he walked over to the motorcycle and began wheeling it back to the aircraft, Alister's thoughts drifted unwillingly toward Mai and he snorted. Valon might be an idiot for pursuing her, but there were other ways of diffusing the boy's interests and Mai certainly could have treated him better for saving her life; he honestly couldn't decide who he was supposed to be annoyed with.

Judging by the openly dark expression he could see on Raphael's face, Alister felt he could safely say that he knew exactly who the older man was angry at.


	101. Redirect

_...It would figure my bunnies would like the previous chapter enough to write a prequel of sorts to it. The title of the chapter may get changed (because I honestly can't think of anything and I REALLY need to get back to studying), but for now I kinda like it :D_

_Set during episode 155 (with a mix of dub and sub dialogue) and leave reviews because OMG IT'S THE HUNDRED AND _FIRST_ CHAPTER! _

_(See what I did there?)_

* * *

Raphael hardly cared that Mai was awake and ranting angrily at them, throwing her arms in the air exasperatedly and snarling random insults directed at them or at Jounouchi. She acted this way so often that he had learned to tune her out unless he absolutely had to listen to her.

His attention was better spent on Valon, who had curled into a semi-ball on the ground and seemed to be cradling his injured arm.

Valon had yet again acted before fully thinking things through, only this time he had wagered his soul instead of something trivial; had the Seal not yielded and had the boy not shown a display of iron will, it would have been certain the Australian would be a soulless shell at this moment. As it was, releasing the Seal of Orichalcos had not been the wisest idea Valon had ever had and it was obvious that he was hurt badly. And then there was the fact that Master Dartz had warned them about interrupting a duel where the Seal of Orichalcos had been played: it was not to be done under any circumstance.

Not that it seemed to bother Valon at the time. He had saved Mai, and if Raphael had to wager a guess that alone was what made the whole thing worthwhile to Valon; the blonde man highly doubted that Jounouchi would have allowed Mai to lose the duel, but he had not gotten the chance to see whether it would have happened because Valon had disrupted the duel at that point.

It was a good thing that they had left when they had, since Valon could not obviously duel and to stick around meant trouble; the Pharaoh and his friends likely would have challenged them and he simply did not feel like accommodating them at that moment. So he contented himself with warning the Pharaoh of their return and then used the Orichalcos to transport them away from the scene.

While the Orichalcos was not capable of transporting more than one person long distances it had more than enough capability to transport them to the parking garage where they had left their motorcycles and from there were able to drive out; Valon had reluctantly yielded Mai's body to Raphael (which he had taken with equal hesitance—he did not like the idea of holding onto the woman and only did so because the teenager obviously could not take her) before driving out of the garage. They had reached the nearest mesa ten minutes later, but at that point Valon simply could not drive any longer and he had tumbled from the bike.

The combination of transporting the three of them with the Orichalcos, worry over Valon's fall and for his injured arm, and anger directed at the woman responsible for it all, therefore, had drained Raphael and he found that he had little tolerance for Mai's tirade.

He winced as he noticed that Valon's wounded shoulder seemed to be slightly squared beneath the armored pad on his shoulder—the pad was sitting unevenly in comparison to the other one. He was not an expert on first aid or identifying injuries, but he was almost certain that the boy's shoulder was dislocated; he'd heard a faint pop before the Orichalcos had exploded, and it was enough of an indicator to warn him of such a possibility.

Valon's face was pale, his lips somewhat curling back in a half-snarl, half-grimace, and his eyes were closed tightly; the fact that he had not said much since the incident worried Raphael as well, since the boy normally was an incessant stream of speech, and he knew that he would have to get the teenager back to the California branch of Paradius as soon as he could.

"I had him!" Mai snapped then, whirling on them like a coiled snake. Raphael refused to look at her, keeping his attention on Valon in an attempt to diffuse his steadily rising temper. "I had him and then you had to butt in and ruin everything!"

Realizing she was addressing Valon with this statement Raphael finally looked over at her, eyeing her coldly. While he did not like Mai in the slightest, Valon had a soft spot for the woman (for reasons he would never be able to fathom) and it was only for that reason that he did not immediately reply, waiting until he felt he could at least attempt to civilly respond.

"You're a real piece of work, you know that?" he growled at last. "He saved your soul and this is how you repay him?"

"Who asked him to save me?" she snapped hotly. "Maybe next time he'll learn to butt out."

"Next time we'll just let you lose," he retorted curtly.

Beside him, Valon shifted and finally opened his eyes to look up at him. "Tha's enough, mate. 'M fine," he ground out, trying to sit up more.

"Stop talking, Raphael," Mai said, switching almost immediately to a tone that was very close to condescending; this shift in behavior was also recognizable, since she knew Valon had her back and Raphael would not do much to antagonize his younger companion. "I won't spare you if you keep talking like this."

_Spare me?_ He could have laughed out loud at that moment.

Raphael rose to his feet, towering over the young woman. "You have no idea of the danger you were in," he said grimly. "You would have lost that duel. Jounouchi had one of the Legendary Dragons in his deck, and the Dragons choose _real_ duelists to serve."

Mai bristled at his last comment, but Raphael could hardly care less if she was mad at him. The change in conversation had served its purpose: he had redirected Mai's angry focus away from Valon. The Australian did not need to be brow-beaten by the woman whose life he had saved, and Raphael would not stand by and ignore the blatant display of ingratitude the woman was showering on Valon.

Mai, of course, simply fumed for a moment before snapping something at them both (he hadn't heard what had been said because he was not listening to her anymore and, frankly, he did not care) before taking Valon's motorcycle and riding off down the hill. He was annoyed when he noticed that the blonde woman had kicked up a cloud of dust _in Valon's face, _but he let her go; she was not worth his effort and eventually things would catch up with her.

He snorted derisively at her retreating back before he noted Valon rising to his feet, no doubt to try and pursue her. Raphael frowned at that—Valon was not in any condition to move. He would have to find a way to distract the brunette long enough to forget about Mai. Maybe he should tell him about the plan he'd been forming; that would certainly divert the younger biker's attention.

…Not likely, but it was worth a shot anyways.


	102. Emails and Wrapping Paper

_My bunnies are semi-kicking and twitching; they're just getting out of the, "OMG WE HAD TO DO EXAMS AND NOW WE'RE DEAD" stage, but they did manage to come up with this._

_Post-DOOM and leave reviews for this and my new story "Countdown 'Til Christmas" (which I think I should probably change the name to, since I am WAY behind schedule in updating that thing)._

* * *

**FROM: THE NEIGHBORHOOD ASSOCIATION  
TO: OUR WONDERFUL NEIGHBORS  
SUBJECT: HOLIDAY ANNOUNCEMENTS**

**To Our Fellow Neighbors:**

**Another year has gone by and we are welcoming the Christmas holiday as it fast approaches. We are more than grateful that our new playground has been installed **

**We would like to remind everyone that our annual Christmas Cookie Swap is coming up; for more information be sure to call the number at the bottom of the flyer. We also would like to remind everyone that those who own reindeer Christmas decorations and place them in the front lawn as part of their festivities would be wise to make certain that the reindeer are secured so as pranksters cannot cause mischief with them.**

**On that note, it was brought to our attention last year that certain parties have been causing chaos in our cul-de-sac by stringing lights in trees, building and dyeing snowmen different colors, and wrapping Christmas paper around neighboring cars. Please note that this year we have taken extra precautions and anyone caught performing these acts will be fined extensively.**

**Thank you so much for your cooperation and we wish you all a Merry Christmas,**

**Your Friendly Neighborhood Association**

* * *

_FROM: [undisclosed email]  
TO: OUR FRIENDLY NEIGHBORS  
RE: HOLIDAY ANNOUNCEMENTS_

_Your attention, please._

_I noticed that the Neighborhood Association is issuing a challenge. Please note that I am more than happy than to accept it and that I will definitely rise up to meet their expectations._

_Merry Christmas._

* * *

**FROM: THE NEIGHBORHOOD ASSOCIATION  
TO: OUR WONDERFUL NEIGHBORS  
SUBJECT: ANOTHER BRIEF ANNOUNCEMENT**

**To All Of Our Wonderful Neighbors:**

**We would like to use this letter to remind the author(s) of the previously issued and unauthorized email released yesterday afternoon that we will be pursuing legal action. if the neighborhood patrol catches anyone wandering outside after curfew and if it is determined that there has been mischief involved, we will be fining all parties under suspicion.**

**Thank you for your cooperation,**

**Your Friendly Neighborhood Association**

* * *

_FROM: [undisclosed email]  
TO: OUR FRIENDLY NEIGHBORS  
RE: ANOTHER BRIEF ANNOUNCEMENT_

_Uh, yeaaah…I'm gonna steal the spotlight again._

_Since when has there been a neighborhood curfew? It's not like I'm seeing any posted signs that say, "YOU ARE VIOLATING CURFEW. RETURN TO YOUR DWELLINGS OR SUFFER THE WRATH OF THE DARK LORD." _

_As far as I'm concerned, I'm not staying up past my bedtime._

* * *

**FROM: THE NEIGHBORHOOD ASSOCIATION  
TO: OUR WONDERFUL NEIGHBORS  
SUBJECT: CHRISTMAS PARTY**

**To Our Good Neighbors:**

**It is during this festive time of the year that we wish to remind everyone of the neighborhood curfew. We would like to politely ask all neighbors to be back inside their houses and not out walking by eleven o' clock, since such behavior is deemed as suspicious by the neighborhood patrol and we do not wish to inconvenience anyone.**

**We also would like to extend a reminder about our annual Christmas party that will take place in the park on December 15. If you are attending you must RSVP in advance so that we can accommodate you and whoever you may bring to the party; if you are bringing food, you can call the number at the bottom of the letter to let us know in advance.**

**Thank you all,**

**Your Friendly Neighborhood Association**

* * *

_FROM: [undisclosed email]  
TO: OUR FRIENDLY NEIGHBORS  
RE: CHRISTMAS PARTY _

_Oh, that was subtle. Nice, guys—way to make things up on the fly. It isn't going to stop me, by the way._

* * *

**FROM: THE NEIGHBORHOOD ASSOCIATION  
TO: OUR WONDERFUL NEIGHBORS  
SUBJECT: GIVE IT UP**

**To the Party(ies) Sending These Messages:**

**We have secured full cooperation from most of our neighbors. If we or the neighborhood patrol should catch you, you will be fined and possibly jailed for trespassing and for defacing public property. We hope you understand that before you decide to perform your acts of mischief.**

**The Neighborhood Association**

* * *

_FROM: [undisclosed email]  
TO: OUR FRIENDLY NEIGHBORS  
RE: GIVE IT UP _

_Give it up? Me? HA._

_You really think you can catch me? Go ahead—I'd love to see you try._

* * *

Raphael shook his head as he finished reading the printouts Alister had handed him, raising an eyebrow at the redhead. "I suppose that Valon has something to do with this?" he said then, sounding incredibly nonplussed. There was a distinctly amused expression that he could not quite hide in his eyes, however.

"I'm sure it's him. How many other people do you know that could get on people's nerves like this?" Alister replied with a barely noticeable smirk.

Raphael set the papers down on the coffee table near the chair, fixing Alister with an intent but friendly gaze. "And I can't help but wonder just how Valon managed to send all these emails without being traced back to here," he said in a mock thoughtful voice. "Especially since he doesn't have very much expertise when it comes to computers and wouldn't have the know-how to do this."

"Hmm…perhaps he's getting help with the emails?" Alister replied in a similar tone.

"Yes, but if I recall I think that DOOM taught us how to send emails that would not get traced back to the sender all the time…and I also recall that you excelled at that particular activity."

The redhead smirked again, gray eyes dancing with amusement. "Perhaps the party helping Valon was offered a certain item he couldn't refuse in exchange for his services?"

"Like?"

"Like having no pranks being pulled on him in the month of April—that is a fairly good bargain, considering what Valon is capable of," said the red-haired man with barely concealed mirth.

Raphael rubbed his chin. "Yeah, that is," he admitted. He frowned, however, and said, "I wonder what he's planning on doing this year. He can't possibly be doing the same thing again…can he?"

* * *

It was not even a week after this conversation had taken place when the head of the Neighborhood Association woke up to find that their entire house had been covered in various rolls of Christmas-themed wrapping paper.

There were many pictures taken.

The perpetrator, predictably, was not caught.

The police did nothing but laugh; no damage had been done to the property, no fingerprints were left behind, and therefore there was no way to charge the prankster.

And Raphael and Alister were left to wonder how on earth Valon had managed to get a hold of so much Christmas wrapping paper and how the Australian had managed to wrap an entire house in paper all in one night.


	103. There Be Crazy People

_OMG I'M SORRY I HAVEN'T UPDATED BEFORE NOW._

_Life's been busy the past few weeks, so as a result you're getting a late Christmas shot and New Year's shot. I apologize for their lateness and hope you forgive me for it. Anyway, __I'm really glad that my FanFiction bunnies remembered this, as this is very loosely based off of something that happened to me quite recently. If you want to read what happened, go check out my LiveJournal. :D_

_This is not the official Christmas shot, but rest assured that one is soon arriving (as soon as my bunnies cooperate). _

_Set during DOOM and leave reviews on the way out!_

* * *

"I don't know why Gurimo sent me and you to go get the grocery shopping done, but I don't like it," said Alister irritably, side-stepping a harried looking young woman and her two small children. "It's like he purposely waited until the Christmas crowds were out and around to send us out. It's a madhouse out here."

"I don' mind bein' sent if it means Raph c'n stay in bed. Poor bloke, colds just don' like 'im," said Valon easily, following after Alister.

The redhead rolled his eyes and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, eyeing the checklist. "He says we need a ham, cereal, some eggnog, and lettuce. We've got the cereal and the lettuce…why don't you get the eggnog and I'll get the ham," he said after studying the list.

Valon saluted him cheerfully before immediately diving into the crowd, his size allowing him to weave expertly through the packed aisle. Alister returned his attention to navigating through the crowd and soon arrived at the meat section of the store, gray eyes scanning the shelves quickly for where the hams were stored. His gaze landed on one particular section and he immediately moved, passing an elderly woman and a balding gentleman to arrive in front of the hams; as it turned out, there was one last ham sitting on the shelf, and Alister picked it up and placed it in his basket with a slight smirk. Success.

Almost immediately after he had placed it in the basket, however, a short and middle aged woman marched up to him from behind a full grocery store cart, a cigarette clutched between her fingers and a scowl on her face. "I had my eye on that ham!" she announced severely, glaring at him.

Alister merely raised an eyebrow.

"I had my eye on it first and you need to give it here!" she continued, holding her hand out demandingly.

Alister's other eyebrow lifted. "Hmm…you may have had your eye on it, but it is now currently in my basket. I think you're simply going to have to find another one," he said calmly, ignoring the angry splutters of the woman in front of him.

She continued to glare at him. "I was coming to get it and then you took it! Now, I had my eye on it first and I was going to put it in my buggy until you cut me off!"

The red-haired biker snorted. "Ma'am, I can assure you that I saw you on the complete opposite side of me; you weren't even in my line of sight. You were nowhere near this section until you saw me take it. Now, I find your effort to intimidate me highly amusing, but I have the ham now and I am not going to be bullied into giving it up."

The dark-haired woman sized him up for a moment longer before she took a long drag of her cigarette and she marched closer to him, blowing the cloud of smoke into his face and effectively blinding him. Alister coughed, surprise mingling with annoyance as he waved a hand in front of his face to clear the smoke. At the same moment he felt something tug on the basket on his arm and he growled, yanking it away.

"Seriously?" he said with incredulity, lifting the basket and the ham over his head; this effectively kept it out of her reach, since he was taller than she was to begin with. "Do you really think that this is going to work?"

The woman replied by blowing more cigarette smoke into his face before attempting to jump for the basket. The redhead rolled his eyes before stepping backward and keeping a firm grip on the basket over his head. "Nice try," he said flatly, turning his back on the woman and swiftly striding away before she could cause more trouble to him.

He heard a chuckle before he turned in annoyance, noting that Valon was leaning against the wall. "Good job, mate. You just seem t' tick off ever'body."

"If you know what's good, you'll shut up," Alister snapped, coughing again as the taste of the cigarette came up in the back of his throat. "That was not fun in the slightest."

Abruptly, a blur moved in front of him and the familiar cloud of cigarette smoke flew into his face. Valon also got a whiff of it and yelped. "Bloody—oi, Alister, she's back!"

"I see her," Alister growled, lifting the basket over his head again as the woman lunged for his basket. He made a mental note to browbeat Gurimo when he got back—this was bordering on ridiculous.

He looked to Valon and motioned him to go to the checkout before following after him, noting that the woman had given up; he was not holding his breath, though, and the whole way to the checkout line he was keeping an eye out for the woman. The lady was almost psychedelic, he thought to himself as he steered Valon clear of the area he had seen the woman slip into to try and cut them off. She needed to get anger management classes (or maybe she had failed them, but Alister certainly did not want to ask and find out).

It was not long before she ambushed them once more, leaping out from behind a basketball display and this time trying to stomp on Alister's toes to get the ham; Valon had come to the rescue by pointing in a random direction and shouting, "Look! Nine'y nine cents f'r potatoes!" and then they had both fled while she had been distracted. It was not until a salesclerk escorted the woman away from them to get another ham that they were free to check out and leave.

The slender redhead decided then that it did not matter what he was threatened with; Gurimo could rage at him all he wanted, but Alister was never doing any kind of shopping this close to Christmas ever again.


	104. White Christmas

_Yeah, I know. Christmas is WAY over. But in my defense my computer died with the original Christmas special shot on it and my bunnies got peeved at me, so I had to write a new one. Besides, Christmas hasn't been gone for that long…right?_

_Anyway, this is a sequel to, "There Be Crazy People," which means that this takes place during DOOM, and I hope you enjoy the (extremely late) Christmas shot!_

* * *

"MERRY CHRISTMAS, RAPH!"

The far-too-loud salutation made Raphael groan and burrow his head under the covers and the pillow; he still felt lousy and the sound of the door opening alone made it feel as if his head had a metal spike driven through it. "Too loud," he mumbled.

Valon did not let this deter him, nearly skipping to the bed and flopping on the mattress after making certain he would not be sitting on Raphael. "Sorry, chum. Anyway, merry Christmas!" announced the Australian cheerfully, tugging lightly on the blanket to try and unearth his bed-ridden companion. "It's the best Christmas ever! Do you know why?"

Another mumbled response.

"Gurimo went out las' nigh' to go talk t' Master Dartz 'bout our last assignment, 'n' it _snowed _a good few inches while 'e was out 'n' the roads are all closed. It's a white Christmas!" Valon said brightly, poking Raphael's shoulder to make certain that the other man was at least somewhat paying attention. "It's really great!"

"Th's nice," Raphael murmured sleepily, rolling over and closing his eyes.

Valon pouted before he shook the blonde's shoulder again. "Aw, c'mon, Raph. You should cel'brate this, y'know. I's not every day tha' Gurimo's gonna be stuck outta the 'ouse f'r the 'olidays; 'e never lets us do anythin' f'r Christmas 'xcept decorate, so this is our big chance t' do somethin' fun."

"Mmhm," said Raphael sleepily, coughing before he opened his eyes to look over his shoulder and at his younger friend as he began to wake up more. "I'm sorry, Valon, but I'm really not feeling good. I think I'm going to stay in bed today."

Valon frowned. "Tha' cold still botherin' ya?" he asked. "D'ya reckon tha' you can come downstairs t' open presents?"

Raphael stifled another cough with the back of his hand. "No," he said, reaching for the tissue box next to his bed. "I think not. Sorry, Valon."

Valon eyed his older friend for a moment longer before he nodded resolutely. "I's all right, Raph. Don' you worry; you just stay put and get comfy. I'll be righ' back."

Raphael blinked in confusion at the boy's retreating back as the other biker bounded out of the room; it wasn't like Valon to simply give up the way he had. He glanced at the clock and reached for the box of decongestant on his dresser as he tried to stifle another cough—looks like the medicine had worn off, he thought wryly.

He had just finished swallowing the two pills and downing the rest of the water in his glass when he heard a loud commotion in the hallway. He jumped when he heard the familiar sounding yell come through the door and was about to get out of bed when he heard Valon's voice call out, "No worries, Raph! Just stick in bed 'n' relax!"

At the same time, Raphael's bedroom door opened and Alister stumbled into the room with an annoyed scowl; he was still clad in his pajamas, which strongly suggested that his younger companion had kicked Alister completely out of bed. "Valon, shove me again and I'm breaking your hands off," he growled irritably, his eyes narrowed as he turned to face the boy.

Valon was not fazed in the slightest by Alister's glare as he carefully navigated into the room, his back to the both of his older friends. "My 'ands are full, mate, in case you 'aven' noticed. I've been kickin' ya down the 'all," he said cheerfully, blue eyes twinkling mischievously as he turned his head. "If you'd cooperated when I asked ya and come outta your room earlier I wouldn' 'ave 'ad t' kick ya."

"Kick, hit. Either way, quit doing it before you find yourself short a couple body of parts."

Raphael watched the two of them bicker for a moment with an exasperated smile before he decided to cut into the conversation with a question. "What exactly are you two doing, anyway?"

Valon grinned, lifting his arms up for Raphael to see. "Well, ya can' come downstairs to open presents," he said, holding what Raphael now recognized as a few wrapped packages. "'N' I can' leave 'em out where they are 'til you get better, 'cause ol' Kuriboh might make us get rid o' 'em; 'e keeps trippin' o'er 'em 'n' 'e told us 'e didn' want anythin'. So, I reckon I would bring them up t' you so you could open 'em in the comfort o' your room."

Alister raised an eyebrow. "So that's what you dragged me out of bed for," he commented idly before he left the room, ignoring Valon's indignant squawk. A few seconds later the redhead returned, carrying in two chairs from the kitchen and setting them down a healthy distance away from Raphael's bed.

"You both are probably going to catch a cold anyway," joked Raphael as he took an offered present from Valon; he understood why Alister had moved the chairs away from his bed. "You really shouldn't be in here; Gurimo might get mad at you if you both get sick. He's already annoyed that I got a cold."

Alister scoffed. "That's a never-changing constant, Raphael. The grass is green, the sky is blue, and Gurimo hates us all; it's when he isn't annoyed that I get worried. Besides, I _never _get sick. And I didn't get either of you anything," he added as an afterthought, folding his arms carelessly.

Valon snorted. "Wasn' expectin' you to. Got ya somethin' anyway; it's from Raph, too, 'cause 'e got sick b'fore 'e could get you one 'n' 'e 'elped pay f'r it," he said, handing a surprised Alister a badly wrapped present.

Raphael blinked when his package rattled and crinkled and he opened it with a curious expression on his face. A few seconds later he looked back up at Valon with a wry smile. "Ha ha," he said dryly, holding up two packs of Sudafed and a large package of cough drops.

Valon grinned at him, gesturing to a small envelope taped to the Sudafed package. "Tha's a gift card t' tha' bookstore you're always goin' off to whenever you get the chance. Maybe when you're better you can get yourself another book; I tried t' find ya one, but I don' know wha' kind of books you like."

"This will work just fine," said Raphael reassuringly. "There are a couple of books I was interested in looking at; this will help me a good deal."

The Australian's eyes brightened when he saw what Raphael had gotten him and a familiar grin split his face as he lifted up a couple of CD's. "Green Day 'n' Linkin Park. Nice, Raph!" he said appreciatively. "I was runnin' outta things t' listen to. Thanks!"

Alister, meanwhile, had opened his own present and stared at it with an unreadable expression. "What is this?" he asked, holding up a medium sized white box and trying to determine its contents.

"Open the box 'n' find out," Valon said simply. "Be careful, though. Don' bump it 'r anythin'."

The redhead rolled his eyes before opening the box carefully and lifting the white cover away. His gray eyes widened in surprise and his eyebrows shot up. "A bonsai tree?" he asked incredulously, looking at the small tree with unconcealed interest.

"Well, you're a quiet bloke 'n' you don' seem t' like a lot o' things t' do b'sides read or 'ide up in your room…'n' you seemed t' like it. Raph suggested it and chipped in t' 'elp get tha' tree, so…yeah," Valon explained awkwardly, unable to gauge Alister's reaction.

The red-haired man eyed his present for a moment longer before rising to his feet. "I'll be back in a couple of minutes; it needs a place in my room and now is as good as time as any to put it in there. Thanks for the tree," he said quietly, but there was no hiding the almost pleased expression on his face that was evident even as he left the room.

A few minutes later Alister returned with two wrapped presents, tossing them to their proper owners. "Here you go," he said simply, sitting back down.

Valon stared. "I thought you said you didn' get anythin'?" he asked with a confused frown.

"I lied."

Raphael opened up the small package and an interested expression appeared on his face. "Robert Jordan's _Wheel of Time_?" he asked, holding up the small paperback. "I've heard about this series, but I never really got a chance to read it before…I think I know what I'm using your gift card for, Valon."

"Tha's good, Raph, I woulda gotten you somethin' else, but I didn' quite know wha' you like to…what are these?" Valon asked as he finished opening his own present, tilting his head to look at what he was holding before looking to Alister for an explanation.

"They're goggles," Alister said with the barest hint of amusement. "Since you don't like the type of helmet that both Raphael and I have, you need something to keep the wind out of your eyes when you're driving your motorcycle. You wear them on your head and pull them over your eyes while you're driving."

The Australian shot a baffled look at Raphael before carefully slipping the goggles over his head and under his chin, pulling them up and over his bangs. He glanced at a nearby mirror and immediately smiled. "I like 'em," he said, adjusting them so that they did not quite crush his fluffy bangs.

Raphael shook his head. "I don't think we're going to see him without those for a long while," he said to Alister in amusement.

* * *

Gurimo sniffed with disapproval when he saw the small package addressed to him from all three of his younger associates sitting on the coffee table; he had just managed to come back that evening, after the roads had been cleared up by the snow trucks. Honestly, he saw no reason to hand out gifts. What was the point? He likely would not see any of his subordinates again if their souls were taken, and why give a gift that would break anyway?

He did have to admit, though, that he was rather appreciative of the new watch sitting inside of the present; his old one had broken and frankly they had been behind schedule because of it. He would have to find a way to repay them—perhaps by waking them up for their mission tomorrow at three-oh-five instead of three. Yes…that would do.


	105. Common Sense

_No, this isn't the New Year's special; my bunnies are still ironing out a few details with it. But I had this bunny feebly twitch while sitting in class today, so I worked on this one instead in hopes that they'll figure out how to end the New Year's shot. I may tweak it a teensy bit later, but for now here it is._

_Set post-DOOM and leave reviews on the way out!_

* * *

The two parties stared intently at their appropriate target without flinching in the slightest, ignoring the soft pattering of the raindrops as they fell against the family room window.

Their third companion had looked up briefly from his book to figure out why it had gotten so quiet before his eyes landed on where they sat on the sofa. He watched them for a minute before once more beginning to read, deciding that what they were doing was no business of his and as long as there was no violence involved he would steer clear of it; this was infinitely better than refereeing an argument. Misa, who was perched on the headrest of the recliner, seemed to agree; she yawned and adjusted her position before settling down once again.

The silence of the room was broken when the younger of the two parties spoke up abruptly, his intense gaze never once wavering. "'m gonna win this one," he said tersely.

"I doubt it." The reply was spoken in a bored voice, though the speaker's eyes were just as intense as his companion's.

"I don'."

"You've lost every single other time we've done this. Why is this different?"

"B'cause I know it's gonna be."

"That's some sound logic."

"It makes sense to me, chum."

"Keep telling yourself that if it eases the pain of your loss."

"What makes you so certain 'm gonna lose?"

"Because you just blinked."

Valon stiffened for a moment before growling in frustration, running a hand through his hair to push his bangs out of his eyes. "Alister, you are bloody in'uman! Do you _ever _blink?"

Alister smirked, a victorious light in his eyes as he looked back at Valon. "Never during competitions," he said, a rare look of satisfaction on his face.

The Australian scowled and remained silent for a moment. "Another round. I bet I'll beat you this time, I know it!" he declared, a challenging light entering his eyes.

The red-haired man rolled his eyes. "You've been saying that since we started playing this game twenty minutes ago. I think it's safe to say that I win when it comes to staring contests. Giving up is the smart thing to do—although, now that I think about it, you wouldn't know anything about doing the smart thing. You tend to do stupid things on a daily basis."

"I do not!" Valon exclaimed indignantly.

Alister inadvertently let out a sound that was a cross between a scoff and a disbelieving laugh but otherwise did not comment, reaching for his water glass and taking a drink from it.

"I don' always do stupid things!" he insisted, looking to Raphael for confirmation (which did not particularly help Valon since the older blonde was immersed in his book and only paying a small amount of attention to his surroundings).

Alister rolled his eyes. "Oh please, Valon. Half the things you defy logic—in fact, anything you do for the most part can be labeled as stupid."

"Yeah? All righ' then, prove it. Name one time I did somethin' dumb."

"Oh, this will be fun. For starters, anything involving you and fireworks," Alister said immediately. Valon opened his mouth to no doubt protest in some fashion, but the redhead continued on with, "Then there was the time that you tried to create a trampoline out of bed sheets and then jumped out the second story window to test its effectiveness."

"I saw it in a movie 'n' I wanted t' see if it worked! Tha's logical!" said the teenager firmly.

"Right," said Alister skeptically. "Then there was the time you held onto a lit firework and wouldn't let go of it—"

"Tha' was b'cause it was glued t' my 'and! Raph can vouch for me!" snapped the teenager in an annoyed tone, folding his arms over his chest and glaring at his older friend.

"Why was it glued to your hand?" asked Alister with an arched eyebrow.

"B'cause I was messin' around with the superglue...wait..."

"Yeah. That did not help your side of the argument any," Alister said sardonically. "Moving on from there, the time you got a hold of Gurimo's razor and tried to cut the lawn with it—"

"The lawn mower was friggin' broken! Be grateful I didn' use yours instead!"

"—the time you grabbed a rubber glove, filled it with flour and vinegar, and nailed it to your closet door to scare away the evil closet gremlins that kept stealing your pants—"

"Oh come on, tha's not fair! I was drunk 'n' you know it!" Valon said irritably. "No one does anythin' smart when they're drunk, 'n' I 'aven' 'ad any alcohol since those blasted cookies Kuriboh spiked!"

"And then we have this afternoon, when you stuck a frozen water balloon in the microwave, turned it on while the balloon was in there, and effectively killed yet another microwave," finished Alister, looking at the teenager expectantly.

"Tha' was b'cause…well, yeah, I'm not really sure wha' I was thinkin' then," admitted the brunette sheepishly.

"See my point? I listed more than one occasion in which you did something ridiculous and that could have been avoided. Therefore in conclusion: you do stupid things on a daily basis," Alister said matter-of-factly.

Valon stared at the slender man for a moment with a dumbfounded expression before he redirected his attention to Raphael. "Raph, I'm not stupid, am I?" he asked desperately, blue eyes anxiously regarding the blonde.

Their older friend, who had been listening to this latest conversation with exasperated amusement, looked up from the book he was currently reading at last. "I don't think that's what Alister's saying, Valon; I think he's pointing out that you tend to do things that most people would know better than to try," he explained.

"Like what?" Valon asked, a hint of a challenge in his tone.

"Besides the list Alister just gave us?" Raphael asked wryly. When Valon nodded firmly, the blonde sighed before he said, "Like when you broke open that snow globe and mixed the water in it with the juice from a can of sardines."

There was a distinct pause, in which Alister shot a startled glance at Valon (who at Raphael's words had flushed and slouched down into his seat as if he wanted to disappear into the sofa). "You did what?" he asked incredulously.

"In my d'fense, Kuriboh said tha' it was a good source of water 'n' nutrients in case o' emergencies 'n' 'e told me t' try it," the teenager muttered under his breath, his face flushing an even deeper red when Alister muttered something along the lines of, "Why exactly would you trust anything Gurimo says?"

"Tell that to both the upset stomach you got immediately afterward and to my _brand new _pillow that you threw up on," Raphael deadpanned.

"Oh come on, Raph. You can' still be mad at me f'r tha'! I already apologized f'r the pillow! Multiple times! 'N' I even bought you a new one t' make up f'r it!" spluttered Valon, an embarrassed scowl appearing on his face at the memory. "A' least I didn' toss my cookies on you or while you were sleepin'; 'eck, you weren' even in the room when I threw up 'n'—Alister, quit laughin'! It isn' funny!"

"You wouldn't have had to buy me a new pillow if you'd understood that people don't drink snow globe water mixed with sardine juice on a daily basis," said Raphael patiently, though he also looked as if he wanted to laugh. "You just need to think a little more before you try something; ask yourself if it's something other people would do."

Valon nodded slowly. "I getcha, Raph…'m not stupid after all!" he said triumphantly, looking at Alister smugly. "I just lack common sense!"

A very long and stunned silence fell after this cheerful statement, in which the two older bikers stared mutely at their beaming companion.

"…That's _not_ something to be proud of," said Alister at last, completely flabbergasted.


	106. New Year's Eve

_OMG SO SORRY IT'S SO LATE._

_My bunnies fought forEVER to find the way to end this. Then they fought for ages on what to title it...which is why I've given it _such_ a creative title (note the sarcasm). It may change later, it may not, but for now I'm sticking with it. By the way, kudos to anyone who knows what Jounouchi's plans are in this shot; it references one of my stories._

_Post-DOOM and I hope you enjoy it: I know I was grinning by the time I finished writing it. _

* * *

The phone had only rung for a few seconds before it was answered. A moment later, Alister padded into the room with the phone in his hand. "It's for you," he said to Raphael, handing the device to him and looking secretly amused about something.

Raphael frowned and took the phone from him with a baffled expression. He could not figure out who would be calling him on New Year's Eve, unless it was Valon. The teenager was out with Shizuka and a few of Jounouchi's friends; once Jounouchi had heard that his little sister was going to be alone with Valon for the evening he had promptly gotten Yugi and his friends to go with them, since he had plans of his own and could not be with Shizuka (in his own words: "Those two alone? Tonight? Not happening.").

He put the device to his ear and said a cautious, "Hello?"

"_Mr. Knighton?" _said a female voice worriedly.

"Ellie?" said Raphael, a startled expression making its way onto his face. He noticed Alister smirking out of the corner of his eyes and suddenly understood why the other man looked so amused. Scowling at Alister as his face heated up, he asked, "What's wrong?"

"_I've got a bit of a problem," _replied Ellie sheepishly. "_I went out to celebrate New Year's Eve with a friend of mine at a party, but I just got a call from a neighbor that Sadie's making a racket in the apartment; everyone's setting off fireworks around the apartment and she's scared. I have to get back, but the friend I went with is…well…she's a little…"_

_"_I understand," Raphael replied as he figured out the situation and why she was calling. "She's indisposed at the moment."

A pleasant and mildly embarrassed laugh sounded over the phone. "_Yes. She's had a few drinks and now she can't drive me back. I'm almost afraid to ask you…but…"_

"You need me to give you a ride home," Raphael guessed.

"_I'm _really_ sorry for troubling you. You're probably tired and it's late," _she began apologetically. "_But I don't know anybody else in town and I really need to get back home."_

"It's not a problem at all," he said reassuringly. "Tell me where you're at and I'll pick you up."

"_Oh, thank you, Mr. Knighton!" _she said gratefully. "_I'm at that new restaurant downtown…do you need directions?"_

"No, it's all right. I always pass that place on my way to work; I know where it is. I'll be over there in about twenty minutes," Raphael stated, pointedly ignoring Alister's knowing look. He hung up and then he rose to his feet, walking into the small study to replace the phone on its cradle.

He heard footsteps behind him. "So, what does Ellie need you for?" Alister asked, a smirk playing across his features.

"She's stranded downtown and she needs to get home," replied Raphael matter-of-factly, reaching into the closet to pull out his coat. "I need to take her back home…I'll be back in about thirty minutes or so. Can you hold down the—Alister, wipe that look off your face."

"What look?" asked the young man innocently, laughing when Raphael scowled at him.

* * *

"'ey, fellas, 'm back!" announced Valon cheerfully, opening the front door to allow Shizuka to enter the house. "I brought comp'ny!"

There was a flurry of movement from the family room and then a blur erupted from the doorway and launched itself into Valon. The Australian let out a startled grunt, followed by a loud yelp when he was knocked backward and onto the floor; when he looked up to see what it was that was pinning him down his blue eyes were met by dark brown ones.

It took him a moment to realize what—or rather, who—he was looking at.

"Sadie!" he said, his semi-annoyed countenance brightening at once when he recognized the dog, gently shoving the German Shepherd off of him before sitting up. He scratched the puppy affectionately behind her ears. "What're you doin' 'ere?"

"Did you get a new dog, Valon?" asked Shizuka, delighted when the dog went to her. She went to her knees and held her hand out to the puppy to sniff. Sadie wasted no time in acquainting herself to the girl, licking her hand; Shizuka giggled, causing Valon to smile as well.

"Naw, this is Ellie's pup," he said when her gaze had shifted from the puppy, confusion dancing onto his features as he spoke.

"Ellie? Is she the woman you were telling me about who works with Raphael?" asked Shizuka, continuing to pet Sadie as she looked to her boyfriend.

"Yeah, tha's 'er. It don' make sense as to why Sadie's 'ere, though…why would she—?"

"Oh dear!" said a woman's voice, interrupting the teenager in mid-sentence. Both Valon and Shizuka looked up in time to see Ellie hurrying toward them from the family room. She was wearing a dark blue turtleneck shirt and a long black skirt, her hair up in a small bun; it was apparent she had just come from a party. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, Ellie, 'm fine," said Valon cheerfully, rising to his feet and brushing imaginary dust off of his shoulders. "No worries 'ere. Oh, 'n' this is my girlfriend Shizuka," he continued, gesturing to the auburn haired girl behind him.

He waited until the other two women had introduced themselves before he looked over at Ellie and asked, "Whatcha doin' 'ere, anyways?"

"I was at a party for New Year's, but Sadie was getting spooked by all the fireworks and my ride couldn't take me home. I called Mr. Knighton and he was kind enough to take me home, but even after I got there Sadie wouldn't calm down. That's when Mr. Knighton suggested that I bring Sadie over here since your neighborhood doesn't have as many fireworks being set off as mine does."

"'e'd be right. Our neighbors wouldn' know fun if it walked up t' 'em and slapped 'em in the face with a rubber chicken labeled 'fun'," grumbled Valon before he paused. "Wait, Raph suggested it?"

"Yes," said Ellie as she bent down to stroke at Sadie's fur, not noticing Valon's suddenly wicked grin when it appeared on his face. "He offered to let me and Sadie stay here until the fireworks die down."

"Did 'e now?" the Australian asked, directing a sly look at Raphael (who had appeared in the doorway of the family room to see what was holding Ellie's attention). "Raph's a righ' gentleman, isn' 'e," he continued, his grin stretching when Raphael's face went pink.

Ellie, who had not yet noticed Raphael behind her, laughed pleasantly. "He is. I was not expecting him to offer so much assistance to me tonight because it's New Years Eve and all, but I'm grateful for it. I'll have to find a way to repay him for all his help; he's been really nice to me, especially at work."

Raphael's facial color went from a light pink to a dark red in a matter of seconds after that statement.

Shizuka, who had noticed Raphael at last, stifled a giggle with her gloved hands while Valon's smirk deepened. "'e talks t' ya at work, does 'e?" he inquired, and the blonde promptly dropped his head into his hands out of embarrassment.

Alister suddenly appeared behind Valon, calmly hooking the boy around the neck with his arm with feigned camaraderie. "Oh good, you're home. I need some help in the kitchen; you made a mess before you went out," he said, dipping his head to acknowledge Shizuka's presence. "You can come help me."

Valon opened his mouth to protest but the red-haired man shifted his arm so that it covered the boy's mouth. He looked to Shizuka and Ellie and said, "Why don't you ladies have a seat in the family room? I'm sure that the movie's back on from commercial; Valon and I will join you momentarily," he continued, promptly dragging Valon backward and ignoring the muffled protests.

Raphael waited until Ellie and Shizuka passed him before mouthing a silent and heartfelt _thank you_ to Alister and following after the girls. The slender young man smiled to himself as he continued to drag Valon back through the living room and into the kitchen—Raphael owed him big time for the rescue.


	107. Murphy's Law and Bee Stings

_Hey everybody. I have this lovely update for you, but don't expect anything else for quite a while. I'm still going to be pretty busy sorting through things, but in the meantime I figured you could have this to read._

_Post-DOOM and please leave reviews if you can!_

_

* * *

_

"'ey, Alister. Whatcha doin'?"

"Reading a book. I take it that your video game expedition was successful?"

"Shoulda guessed you'd be readin', and yeah, got myself a couple things…uh, Alister?"

"Hm?"

"You're always the bloke with the first aid know-'ow, righ'?"

"Obviously."

"So, you know 'ow t' treat injuries?"

"Duh. I just said that. And before you ask, I know how to give CPR."

"Uh…C-P-wha', now?"

"Cardiopulmonary resuscitation."

"…Uh…"

"The kiss of life, idget."

"Oh! Oh yeah, tha's righ'...wait."

"I don't even need to turn around to see that disgusted look on your face. Don't worry, the latest round of medical research tells me that I don't have to do anything more than pushing on your chest unless giving you air is necessary, should such an emergency arise."

"Good. I wouldn' let ya, anyway."

"As fascinating as this subject is, I'm sure you were asking me about my first aid expertise for a reason."

"Oh, yeah I was. Uh, wha' do you know 'bout bee stings?"

"Quite a bit."

"…Like?"

"Go ahead and ask."

"You're not bein' particularly sociable t'day, are ya?"

"Not feeling like it. Ask away."

"Mmkay. Wha' do you do when it stings ya?"

"Don't pull the stinger out with tweezers, don't squeeze it, and don't leave it in your skin for too long. Scrape it off gently with a credit card or a piece of paper." The reply was spoken in a distinctly bored and mechanical manner.

There was a pause following this statement. "Okay…now, wha' next?"

"You ice it before the swelling gets too bad. Oh, and if they're allergic to the bee sting then give them a shot of epinephrine, since being stung can cause respiratory problems; if it gets too bad then take them to the hospital."

A very long silence accompanied the bluntly spoken assessment before the next question was asked. "So 'ow do ya know if you're allergic?"

"Whatever's been stung swells up to ridiculous size in a matter of seconds and it gets really hard to breathe."

"You don' say." The reply was spoken in a thick and would-be calm tone of voice. "Soo…say I needed this epi…epi…epi-whatzit. Where would I get it?"

"At the hospital. You need a doctor to prescribe it and…wait a minute. Valon."

"Huh?"

"Why would you need epinephrine?"

"'Cause I jus' got stung by a bee when I was comin' in the 'ouse 'n' I think I may be allergic t' the buggers."

Alister finally looked up from the book he had been reading, his eyes immediately going to where Valon was leaning against the doorway and beginning to assess the boy in a matter of seconds; the teen had a grayish cast to his face and was supporting a rapidly swelling hand with his unaffected arm.

The red-haired man looked at where Valon was standing in the doorway, his breath coming in slow and pained gasps, before he set his book down on the table, rose to his feet, and crossed the room to where the boy was to grab his elbow. He calmly dragged the other young man to the foot of the stairs before looking up them; the older man had just gone up there five minutes ago with some freshly cleaned laundry.

"Raphael, do you have your car keys anywhere near you?" he called, keeping one eye on the Australian.

A moment later Raphael's deep voice came down the stairwell. "No, but they should be on the table by the front door. Why?"

"No real reason. Valon's just having a severe reaction to a bee sting and practically can't breathe," said Alister nonchalantly in reply, already pulling Valon along to the front door and picking up the keys as he went. "I'm taking him to the hospital. See you in a little bit," he continued with a faked cheerfulness, already out the door and closing it behind him.

As he got into the car and turned the ignition on (after making certain that the brunette had gotten into the car all right), he sighed heavily. "Really, Valon. Can you go one day when you don't involve me in some crisis?"

The Australian chose not to reply to that, instead focusing on breathing. However, the dirty look directed at the older man told him that Valon was not that badly off—if he had enough energy to glare at him, then that meant nothing overly life-threatening had occurred yet.

* * *

"I's dumb," said Valon irritably, scowling at his still swollen hand with irritation. "A tiny li'l bug c'n prob'ly kill me. Great."

Raphael studied the Australian intently. Valon seemed to be no worse for the wear in spite of his impromptu hospital visit. If anything, the younger man was more annoyed at the fact he'd had to go at all.

When Alister had returned with Valon he had immediately set him up in the family room, and the teenager was currently resting on the sofa; although the doctor had administered the epinephrine the redhead had made it abundantly clear that Valon was to be kept quiet for a few hours to make certain that he was all right.

"I'm surprised that this went undiscovered for so long," he said, catching Valon's attention. "We had to do physicals all the time for DOOM and Alister and I both had to get checked for allergies."

"You're talking to Valon, Raphael," Alister retorted from where he was in the kitchen (it was his turn to make dinner that night). "Murphy's Law dictates that if something that has a chance of going wrong , then it can and will go wrong; I believe I now know who that phrase is referring to."

"Ha ha, Alister. You're 'ilarious," muttered Valon sullenly, glaring moodily at his hand again.

Raphael frowned thoughtfully for a moment at the sulking Australian. "You know, I'm sure that you can make the best of this."

"Yeah? 'ow?"

"For example, you don't have to really do any of your house chores tonight."

"Yeah, but I never really do 'em any'ow."

Alister chose this moment to call out from the kitchen once again. "You have to meet Shizuka tomorrow, right? Use this as a reason for you to go to her home and watch a movie on the sofa, cuddled up together with some popcorn or the like. Milk this for all it's worth."

Valon paused to consider this. "Y'know, tha's not a bad idea," he said, blue eyes twinkling in mischief. "'n' tha' way, if Jounouchi tries to kick me out 'e can'—my condition wouldn' allow f'r it," he continued with a wicked smirk.

"…Alister, you've created a monster."


	108. Thief in the Night

_I'm nearly back, guys. I just have a few more things to sort through and then we'll be seeing more updates :D_

_Anyway, my bunnies were enamored with this idea so I decided to write it out and then I found that I had this one; it's slightly longer than normal, but then again I've been gone a while. This is set post-DOOM and don't forget to leave reviews if you can (and I heard a rumor that the alert system is down, so don't worry if you don't get an email notification)._

* * *

It was more out of instinct than anything else that roused Alister from a sound sleep, his gray eyes snapping open and all of his senses immediately going on the alert. Living through a war had taught him that a heavy sleeper could get easily surprised and killed, and even now he still woke up the moment he heard something.

Though the sound of his door opening and closing had pulled him out of slumber, it was the sound of unfamiliar footsteps that made him prop himself onto his elbow and face his closed bedroom door, eyeing it suspiciously before slipping out from under his blankets to investigate.

He knew that whoever had just passed his room was not Raphael. The older man, once asleep, tended to stay asleep and rarely ventured from his room at night once he had gone to bed; the footsteps had been too light for Raphael, anyway. A glance at the clock told him that Valon was not prowling around either; even though the Australian tended to stay up late he never was awake at this hour.

He wondered if he was being paranoid when, upon opening his bedroom door, he found no one outside his room. It could have been Misa that had passed his room—Raphael left his bedroom door cracked open at night because the cat loved curling up on his bed. Alister decided against it, however, as he slipped out of his room. Misa was far too light for her footsteps to even be heard.

Alister crept down the hall, momentarily pausing to make certain that Valon was indeed asleep in his bed; the sound of Valon's soft snores told him that the Australian was definitely inside. He was debating on whether he should check Raphael's room next when he heard a thumping sound from downstairs and his eyes narrowed. He moved carefully down the stairs, his feet hitting the carpet noiselessly as he descended.

He tensed when he heard a low voice curse in the study—definitely not Raphael or Valon. Alister cautiously peered around the corner and spotted the dark clad figure that was rifling through the medium sized desk, noting that this stranger was just barely his height but much bulkier; the sack that lay on the desk nearby told him just what purpose the intruder had in mind.

Great. Of all the houses out there, a burglar just _had _to hit theirs. What, did they have a giant target painted on their house or something? Why did everything have to happen to them?

He looked for the telephone on the small table in the hallway before inwardly growling in frustration. When this was over, he was having a discussion with Valon about returning the telephone to its proper place.

Alister remembered the telephone that was sitting upstairs and was just about to head up to get it when the burglar stepped out of the doorway and crossed the front hall. Alister, unfortunately, had nowhere to hide and stiffened when the burglar turned his head. The black clad figure froze when his eyes landed on the other man, dropping his sack onto the floor, and for a moment neither party moved.

"Hi," said Alister pleasantly at last, and then he moved just as the other figure reached for some weapon at his side, slamming into the burglar and propelling them into the wall beside the front door.

The other man grunted in surprise, clearly caught off guard, but already he had begun to recover and he was trying to scramble to his feet. Alister brought his heel around and drove it into the man's solar plexus, winding the burglar and causing him to drop back to the floor; as the man fell the redhead maneuvered from under the other man and placed himself back onto his feet.

The burglar abruptly lashed out with a judo kick aimed at his shins, catching Alister off guard and knocking him over. The red-haired biker, however, was already twisting so that even as he fell he was able to land on his side and was ready to use his hands to push him back up. The burglar was not waiting for him to get up this time, instead reaching for a knife and taking a swipe at him with it. Alister noticed it at the last second and dropped entirely to the floor, and his opponent took the opportunity to flee back up the stairs since Alister was blocking the front door.

That would not have been so much of a problem, except Valon's bedroom door opened just as the thief made it to the upper landing.

Alister heard the startled, "Wha' the 'eck—" even as he literally flew to his feet and moved up the stairs, alarm coursing through him. Valon had no idea what he was walking into and there was a high chance he could get hurt before he even realized what was happening and—

A startled yelp broke his thoughts and Alister realized that someone was tumbling down the stairs. He pressed himself against the wall of the staircase to prevent himself from falling down as well; he was not sure just who had fallen and he looked back down the staircase quickly to figure it out as a loud crash filled the air.

He let out a displeased growl when he saw Valon's sprawled figure at the bottom of the stairs before hurrying up them once again, anger burning in his eyes as he made it to the landing. He would have to trust that the brunette was all right—Alister had to stop the intruder before he either escaped or caused more harm.

"I don't think so!" he snarled as he caught up to the fleeing thief, grabbing the back of the other man's collar and yanking hard on it to tug him backwards; the thief had been trying to make his escape down the hall and had very nearly gone into Raphael's room.

The other man growled as he abruptly whirled around to throw a punch, but Alister dodged it and rammed his body into the burglar's so that he was propelled into the wall. The thief grunted and then shoved Alister backward so that the redhead was thrown against the opposite wall.

The black-clad figure gained his feet, pausing only to grab his knife before he advanced down the hall; if he hurried he could still escape before anyone had time to call the—

CRACK!

Alister looked up sharply as the intruder dropped to the floor silently, not one sound escaping him. The red-haired man then directed his attention to the tall and imposing figure looming over the unconscious burglar, a smirk making its way onto his features as he rose to his feet.

"Perfect timing, Raphael," he said.

The older blonde glanced at him briefly with alert blue eyes, making certain that the burglar was not going to attack him before kicking the dropped knife away. He had heard a loud crash earlier and the sound, coupled with Misa's insistent meows, was enough to get him out of bed and to the doorway of his room in time to watch some nameless man coming at him; the knockout punch Raphael had then delivered was nothing short of miraculous, especially since he had been half asleep.

He looked to Alister for a moment, surveying him with his eyes. "Are you all right?" he asked, bending over to grab the man's wrists and starting to drag him unceremoniously to the hall closet. There were no windows to escape through in there and it was the best place to put their uninvited guest until the police arrived.

Alister grunted dismissively, coming alongside Raphael to help him with the unmoving body of the burglar. "Peachy," he said shortly as he grabbed the unmoving legs of his former opponent. He dropped them once he had gotten inside closet and then kicked the thief to knock him out once again; the intureder had begun to stir and he was in no mood to start another fight.

Raphael closed the door firmly before reaching up to the top of the doorframe. "As reluctant as I am to admit it, I'm halfway grateful Gurimo put a lock on this closet. I'm still not sure why he did that," he said as he slid the deadbolt into place.

"Probably to lock Valon in there at some point," replied Alister bluntly, but then the comment registered and he remembered what had happened earlier. Alarmed, he returned to the stairwell and peered down it with a noticeably anxious expression. "Valon?" he called sharply as he moved down the stairs, hoping for an answer.

Even as he came up to his younger friend he heard a low moan and Valon's arm shifted, but he did not stir any further than that. Alister bent down and checked to make certain that the boy did not have any broken bones before carefully pulling Valon's arm around his neck and rising slowly to his feet, half dragging the other biker into the family room and lying him on the sofa.

"What happened?" said Raphael in concern as he turned on the family room light, not too far behind Alister.

Valon groaned again and opened his eyes, looking up at both of his older friends blearily. "Yeah, Alister. Mind fillin' me in?" he asked in dazed confusion, sitting up on the sofa slowly. Miraculously, the brunette had narrowly avoided gaining any threatening injuries, but as he had fallen down the stairs he had hit his head on the side of the railing and had blacked out.

Alister, who was double checking Valon to make certain that he had no serious wounds to tend to, noted the small bump beneath Valon's hair but relaxed when he couldn't find anything else. "We had an uninvited guest stop by. Apparently he had been planning to rob us blind—he clearly chose the wrong house."

Valon winced as his head throbbed. "Is the bloke stupid 'r somethin'? There's nothin' in 'ere worth stealin'. 'N' 'ow did 'e get in, any'ow?" he asked.

"Through the window in the half bathroom upstairs, I imagine. I heard him pass my room and that's what started the whole thing," said Alister grimly, satisfied that Valon was not too badly hurt. A movement from the corner of eyes told him that Raphael had gone into the kitchen, no doubt to get Valon an ice pack.

The Australian digested this information before slowly nodding. "I reckon tha's what 'appened. Makes sense, at any rate…'ey, did 'e get away? I woulda done somethin' faster 'xcept tha' 'e surprised me 'n' the next thing I knew I was rollin' down the stairs."

"Yeah, we got him," said Raphael as he reentered the room; Alister saw the small bundle in Raphael's hand and knew that his earlier suspicion had been confirmed. The elder biker handed Valon a small bag of ice as he continued speaking. "He's not going anywhere except to jail, as soon as I find the phone."

"Good," said Valon firmly, gingerly placing the ice pack on his head. "Blighter deserves it."

The brunette teenager looked to Alister after a moment's pause and grinned. "Lucky thing you're such a light sleeper, chum," he said. "Who knows wha' tha' fella woulda taken if you'd stayed asleep. I bet tha' thief was really surprised when 'e saw you."

"More along the lines of being terrified out of his mind. You of all people know what happens when I get woken up this early," Alister commented flatly, raising an eyebrow at his younger friend pointedly. "Oh, and by the way, you need to put the phone back on the cradle when you're done using it. This is the second time that we've needed the phone and it wasn't there. Figured I ought to mention it—it's fairly important, especially since we seem to be magnets for trouble."


	109. The Kindness of Strangers

_I know. This isn't the Valentine's Day special or Alister's birthday shot. But my bunnies liked this idea a lot and they wouldn't stop pestering me until I wrote it down._

_Takes place before "Someone's Waiting For You" (chapter 47, since I'm sure no one wants to go back that far) and I hope you like it!_

* * *

His whole body _hurt._

He didn't want to move from where he was. It hurt too much to even blink, let alone move to a safer location. But the place he was hiding in was the only familiar thing he had left to him—everything else had gone with his parents, and he had nothing left but rapidly fading memories and this house.

It had been five years since Valon had been left behind (and that was a best guess, since he had no idea how to read, write, or count). During that time the child had wandered from place to place just trying to scrounge a living for himself; long after his life on the street had ended he would still remember the scent of copper-tasting blood and the fear of not living to see the next sunrise.

Normally he was always on top when it came to fights, but not this time. Last night one of the older and rougher gangs had found him trespassing on their turf, and they had proceeded to kick the tar out of him. They did not care how old he was or that he was an orphan—Valon was on their property and therefore subject to their punishments.

He'd managed to escape them, and luck had been with him this time; he had been near his old neighborhood and Valon had managed to crawl under the front porch of his old home, praying that they would not see him when they ran past the house. They hadn't, and he was relieved enough to sleep for a short while, but when Valon had woken up that morning he realized that he was seriously hurt and was now stuck where he was. It hurt too much to move.

And now Valon lay in the mud beneath what had once been his house, hurt and alone.

"I'll fix 'em," he muttered angrily, biting back a yelp as he shifted his weight and an injury was jostled. "One day, I'll fix 'em 'n' they'll be sorry they messed with me!" he continued in a fierce whisper, his eyes flashing with anger.

He heard the sound of footsteps approaching and he froze, flattening himself in the mud as he backed up slowly (praying desperately all the while that there were no spiders under here to aggravate—the spiders around here were poisonous) and peering out with bright blue eyes. He could not see who was out there, but someone was just beyond his sight and he knew better than to adjust his position.

Whoever it was, however, moved just enough into his line of sight so that he caught a glimpse of the figure walking by and he did a double take.

The young woman he could see was wearing a long, black dress and was carrying a basket on her arm; she could not be much older than twenty, maybe. Valon remembered overhearing one of the men who hung out at the shelter call those kind of dresses "habits" and they had also called the woman who had worn it a "nun." She walked by with purpose, her face oddly serene despite her surroundings—she was probably returning to the church the men said she'd worked in.

Valon frowned at her, thinking hard. He knew there was a church that actually was not too far away from here, but he didn't know exactly where it was. Maybe if he followed her then he could get to that neighborhood; generally, most of the more violent gangs stayed away from there because of the police office positioned two blocks from the church. He wouldn't go in with her, but he could take refuge near there…just until he recovered.

The boy began slowly inching his way out from under the porch, stifling his whimpers of pain as he crawled into the open air. He waited until the sharp throbbing in his ribcage had stopped before carefully rising to his feet, tottering after the nun as quickly as he possibly could without alerting her. He managed to stay out of her sight as she rounded the street corner; he did not want anyone's charity, since it was likely they would turn him in to the social workers.

And Valon didn't want another family.

It was tough to walk and even tougher to make sure that the woman did not see him, but at last he rounded a street corner in time to watch the young woman enter a small building that was sandwiched between two others. Valon was not certain that was the church until he noticed that there was a cross over the door—the nun had been wearing one around her neck.

The boy smiled in triumph, weary but pleased. From the looks of things it was a quiet neighborhood; here he could rest peacefully without anyone bothering him and it seemed safe enough. Valon looked around him, taking in his surroundings warily—he needed a place to stay until his injuries healed and he was exhausted, but he had to find a safe place to sleep first.

His eyes went to the dumpster across the alleyway, then to the left side of it where a large discarded box lay. He debated, and then he began hobbling forward to investigate it. There was nothing inside it to claim it as someone else's home, and Valon was too tired to really care if someone lived in there or not. He gingerly backed himself into it after making certain that no one was around, settling down and carefully adjusting himself before closing his eyes and instantly falling asleep.

* * *

"Hello?"

It was a woman's voice that brought him out of the deep slumber he had fallen into, and he was reluctant to wake up; it was so rare to fall asleep and get more than an hour when he was not in some danger. He shifted and mumbled something that even he didn't understand, burrowing into the box; that lady could talk to whoever she wanted to out there, as long as she kept her voice down.

"Little boy?" she asked, and then he felt a gentle hand on his own.

Valon started awake, turning his head so that he could look at the woman crouched in front of the box fully before shifting immediately to the back of the box. How had she seen him? How on earth had she known he was back here? Was she friendly?

Upon closer investigation Valon realized he was looking at the nun that he had followed earlier and he slightly relaxed. He'd heard that nuns weren't supposed to hurt people, so she was somewhat okay…right?

"Wha' do you wan' from me?" he asked sharply, wincing as his ribs throbbed once again. A glance at the light outside the box told him that it was nearly evening—everything had an orange tint to it, telling him the sun was going down.

The woman's worried blue eyes softened in relief. "Thank goodness. I was worried that you were dead," she said, clearly happy that he wasn't.

"I was sleepin'. Do you mind lettin' me alone? I's not tha' easy t' catch a nap 'round these parts," he retorted, never taking his eyes off of her.

The woman surveyed him quietly for a minute before she said, "Have you been here long?"

Valon chose to glare at her and hoped that maybe his sullen silence could drive her off, since talking to her wasn't doing anything. He shifted again since he had been inadvertently sitting on one of his hands, but the movement jostled one of the more severe of his injuries and in spite of himself Valon let out a whimper.

The nun's expression sharpened almost immediately. "You're hurt," she said in consternation, her eyes going to where blood had seeped through the sleeve of the thin jacket he was wearing. "You need help."

"I can 'andle myself," Valon snapped indignantly, scowling at her. "I don' need anythin' from you, so jus' go away!"

The woman's troubled expression lasted for a few seconds longer before it was replaced with an understanding one. "Listen," she began seriously, her eyes locked onto his. "I run a small church just across the street. I'm not asking you to stay there and I will not force you to go if you do not want to, but if you come with me I can at least treat those injuries and make certain they don't get worse."

Valon hesitated, his resolve wavering. He had no idea how badly he was hurt, but if it was too bad he would likely need a doctor. Besides, the woman was friendly and didn't seem like she could hurt anyone, least of all him. "If you patch me up, you won' make me stay there, will you?" he asked at last. "I don' like bein' cooped up in one place too long."

The nun shook her head. "If you don't wish to stay, I will not force you to. All I want to do is help you with your wounds," she said earnestly.

Valon thought about it for one more minute, and then he slowly moved out of the box and rose to his feet shakily. "All righ', lady, I'm trustin' ya," he said reluctantly, ignoring the way that all of his injuries were now throbbing once again. "But you better not be lyin' t' me."

"I don't lie," she assured him before shifting so that her back to him. When Valon stared at her in surprise, she turned her head and said, "I'm not going to make you walk. It's fairly obvious that you don't want to walk even that far. I'll carry you over."

The boy reluctantly clambered onto her back after hesitating a few seconds and felt silly as she rose to her feet; he hoped no one was watching, because if they were no one would take him seriously and it could later lead to more fights. Nonetheless, the woman was right—he was simply too hurt to walk much further.

As the two began to make their way back across the street, the nun spoke. "I don't know your name, but you can simply call me Mother Mary. Everyone else does."

"Mother Mary, huh?" Valon said, somehow liking the way the name sounded. He thought about it for a moment before he decided that he could at least trust her with his name. "I'm Valon."

"Well, Valon," said Mother Mary brightly as they entered the cool interior of the church, "it's certainly nice to meet you. I'm pretty sure I have some cookies in the back; you can have one while I bandage your injuries."

Valon grinned, delight making its way onto his features. He had only had a cookie once, and he did not even remember what it had tasted like. He did remember, however, that they tasted good. "I think I like you already," he announced.


	110. Red Icing and Heart Shaped Sprinkles

_Woooow. My bunnies certainly know how to come up with things when they need to._

_So good news first—my hand is nearly one hundred percent again and that means that work on updates will resume. Even better news is that Raphael's story arc is nearly finished, which means that either sometime this week or this weekend we'll be seeing it at last._

_This one takes place pre-canon. Like, WAY pre-canon. You'll figure it out when you start reading. Oh, and let's go ahead and consider this both the Valentine's Day special and Alister's birthday shot._

_PS: I think I have cookies on the brain. In fact, I'm pretty sure I do...not that it's a bad thing._

* * *

"Oh, Jonathan! You're just in time—I've just about finished with this batch of chocolate chip cookies!" said Rosalie cheerfully when her husband stepped into the kitchen, tipping her head at the oven.

"I could smell them on my way in," said the copper-haired man appreciatively as he sat down at the table, setting his jacket on the back of his chair. "But I do have to ask you just what the occasion is behind the cookies, Rosie."

"You mean I can't make you cookies without arousing suspicion?" Rosalie said with mock-severity as she came over to him, her blue-gray eyes twinkling in amusement. "And don't call me Rosie," she continued, flicking the tip of his nose playfully.

"In response to your first question: yes, I have the right to be suspicious, since you seem to make cookies only when you've broken something, when you want me to do something for you, or if it's celebratory," said Jonathan, wrinkling his nose to dispel the weird feeling in it. "As for the second part of your sentence, I believe you told me on our wedding day I was allowed to call you Rosie."

The woman scowled. "It doesn't mean I have to like it, though," she said flatly, her countenance brightening when she heard an egg timer ding. "The cookies are done! Let me go get them…oh, and I made a batch earlier, so let me get you a cookie from that set."

Rosalie practically bounced back into the kitchen and Jonathan shook his head in weary amusement as he leaned back into the wooden chair. Somewhere along the line the young woman had learned how to make chocolate chip cookies just the way he liked it; he suspected that Rosalie had spent hours learning how to make his favorite treat, so he was always appreciative of her efforts.

"How was your trip to the doctor's, Rosalie? Do you have a stomach flu or something?" he called, remembering that she had a doctor's appointment earlier that day.

"Or something," she replied mysteriously as she returned from the kitchen, carrying what he could assume was one of the cookies from the batch she had mentioned. "Here you are, Jonathan! I've just enough time to give you this before I have to tend to the other batch," she announced, setting the cookie on a napkin she had set in front of him before returning to the kitchen.

Jonathan, however, stared at his cookie in complete confusion. Rosalie was a good cook, no mistaking it—but what had she done to this cookie? He lifted it off the napkin and eyed it intently, wondering if there was some kind of message in it somewhere, but moments later he gave it up and rose to his feet. The slender man padded into the kitchen to lean against the doorframe and watch his wife expertly slip the cookies off the tray and onto a cooling rack, clearing his throat to catch her attention.

"Yes? What is it, Jonathan? Did I burn it?" she asked, looking to him for an explanation.

"No…but what have you done to this cookie?" he asked, holding it out to her for inspection.

Rosalie eyed the cookie for a moment before looking back at him in bafflement. "Jonathan, dear, there's nothing wrong with that cookie."

Jonathan raised an eyebrow at her. "Besides the fact that this particular chocolate chip cookie is covered in red icing and showered with heart shaped sprinkles? Yes, this is a really normal cookie."

The woman laughed, setting one of the racks down and taking off her oven mitts. "Did you even try to eat it, or were you thrown off by the icing?"

"The icing threw me for a loop, yes," said Jonathan. "Why did you make it?"

Rosalie frowned thoughtfully at him. "Well, I'm practicing to make these cookies so that on Valentine's Day I can serve these to the guests; I'm trying to determine if I need to make a cookie cake or if I need to just make individual cookies. Either way, it needs icing because I simply can't serve plain cookies at the baby shower…hmm…maybe I should just serve these on Valentine's Day, since it will be closer to the due date then anyways."

"I wouldn't imagine that you would do plain anythi—wait a minute, baby shower?" said Jonathan, confused. "Mary-Anne's baby shower was last month. I don't understand what the red icing cookies with sprinkles has to do with it."

Rosalie placed her hands on her hips, a nameless emotion in her eyes as she laughed. "Jonathan, I've given you just about every hint I can without saying it and you still haven't figured it out," she said with a pleasant smile. "It's both encouraging and frustrating, since this means I can make you go on treasure hunts now."

Jonathan frowned. "Rosie, all you've told me is that you're making these cookies for a baby shower," he said with a frown, but even as he said it his shoulders completely tensed as the puzzle pieces abruptly fit together in his brain. Doctor's office, cookies, baby shower, _baby…_

"Wait a moment…Rosie, you aren't…you…are you?" he finished in an odd tone of voice.

Rosalie giggled at the flabbergasted expression on her husband's face. "Turns out that the stomach bug isn't really a stomach bug; we're due in February, and I was hoping that it was close to Valentine's Day so that I could hand out these themed cookies," she continued, gesturing to the cookie in her hand.

The copper-haired man seemed to not have registered that comment. "Rosie…you're pregnant," he said faintly.

His wife eyed his blank face with sudden concern. "Jonathan?" she asked uncertainly, setting the cookie down on the counter. "Jonathan, are you all right?"

There was a long pause before Jonathan rose to his feet, stepping closer to Rosalie with a growing smile on his face. "Am I all right?" he repeated, and then suddenly his hands were around her waist and he had lifted her off her feet, spinning in a circle with her. "How does this answer the question?"

Rosalie squealed gaily, her eyes glittering with delight. "Jonathan, don't drop me!" she half-laughed, wrapping her arms around her husband's neck and hugging him. Jonathan cradled her close, smiling contentedly as he held her.

After a moment he released Rosalie and reached for the cookie that had been previously abandoned. "You know, I think I will take that cookie," he said brightly, taking a bite from it. He blinked and then said, "I think this is one of the better cookies you've ever made. Just nix the sprinkles, please."

"I take it you don't like them?"

"I don't mind them—just that the heart-shaped sprinkles are a tad too girly if we're having a boy."


	111. Wedding Bells: Part I

_GOD YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW DIFFICULT THIS WAS TO WRITE._

_I've been working on this for nearly a year to get all the details right and to get it so that it all fit in five chapters; it took longer to get all the research in and I'm pretty sure that my (un)official beta hates me for pestering her so much on this. Thanks to both A .Clueless. Conundrum for the original plot bunny and to my (un)official beta (she changes her penname WAY too much) for plot help._

_Now, a couple things to keep in mind. There is a lot of French used in this arc, but I am not exactly a French language major. I used Google for the most part; please don't complain about transitional/tense/female-male conjugations if they are wrong. Translations are provided at the end of the chapter, so don't panic if you don't understand what's being said._

_Now, on with the story :D_

* * *

It was just another typical Saturday at the biker's home when the doorbell rang, heralding the arrival of a guest. This was unusual, seeing how as it was far too early for anyone to call on them; generally, it was much later in the day before they saw either Shizuka or Marik.

Alister, who decided to answer the door because Valon was still asleep and Raphael was in the kitchen, merely raised his eyebrows when he opened the door and his eyes landed on a very well-dressed and beautiful woman on their front porch. He observed her distasteful expression and immediately labeled her the same way he had Raphael's relatives: _stingy stuck up rich lady blech. _

This assessment was given mainly because she eyed him with a look that usually was given when one encountered a mess their pet had made; because of the cold weather Alister had elected to wear a long sleeve top instead of his normal midriff-exposing shirt, but even that much had clearly not appealed to the woman.

"Aren't you going to escort me in?" the raven haired woman asked haughtily as she looked around the front hall with peridot eyes. The comment revealed herself as a Frenchwoman—that accent was unmistakable.

The red-haired man contemplated her for a moment and debated on shutting the door in her face. "And why should I allow a woman I've never met into my home?" he asked flatly.

"Do you have any idea of who I am?" she said irritably, shivering as the wind blew by (it wasn't _that _cold, but that silk top couldn't possibly be keeping her warm in the slightest).

Alister reached for an imaginary clipboard and mimed looking down a list. "Hmm…nope, sorry. I don't see you anywhere on here," he announced a few seconds later. "You'll have to call the scheduling manager again; your reservation must have gotten lost in the mail."

"I am not joking with you, _monsieur. _Surely Pierre sent you some sort of message announcing my arrival," she said primly, lifting her chin. "I am here to discuss something of importance with Raphael Knighton."

Alister's frown deepened as he stared at her with a less than enthusiastic expression on his face. Pierre…Raphael's uncle? What would he want from Raphael, and why send this woman to act as his messenger?

"Alister?"

The redhead turned partially and caught a familiar figure in the corner of his vision. Raphael had come out from the kitchen, no doubt to see just who was at the door; he obviously had not been expecting the woman, because a startled expression briefly flitted across his face before looking to Alister for an explanation.

"I haven't a clue who she is or why she's here, but apparently Pierre sent her to discuss something with you," he said, watching Raphael's confused expression melt into a carefully neutral one almost immediately. Although Alister would have preferred not to say anything at all about who had sent the woman, there was no way he would be able to lie to the blonde.

The Frenchwoman huffed in annoyance. "Are you going to invite me inside, or are you two going to stand there like buffoons and gawk all day?" she snapped impatiently. "I do not have all the time in the world."

Raphael dipped his head briefly at Alister, who very reluctantly stood aside to allow the young woman past him and into the house. She sniffed, looking at her surroundings in evident disdain as Alister shut the door behind her. "You live in this hovel by choice?" she asked Raphael imperiously. "It must be tiresome, _non_?"

"Hovel or not, this is my home, _mademoiselle,_ and I must ask that you refrain from insulting it," Raphael said coolly but politely, and Alister instantly recognized the behavior. This was the exact same way he had spoken to Mai back in DOOM; that only confirmed that their guest was not welcome here, but as long as Raphael continued to be polite he would also behave—somewhat.

Misa, who had come to the door to see who was there, meowed and pawed at their guest's leg inquisitively, even going so far as to rise onto her hind legs to look up at her. The woman scowled and drew her leg back to possibly kick the curious kitten, but Alister shot past her easily to pick up the cat, shooting her a dirty look as he passed her.

His older friend had not missed this, either. "Madame, I must ask that you also refrain from unwarranted violence directed at those who live here," Raphael stated, though this time there was an edge to his voice that carried a warning to it.

"Then keep that scruffy bundle of fur away from me; this suit cost me a good deal of money, and I do not need cat hair on it," she said, sitting herself gingerly on an armchair that faced the sofa and crossing her legs at the ankles.

Alister scoffed. "No worries. I'll make sure Misa doesn't go anywhere near your clothes—your suit isn't deserving of her fur, anyway," he said.

The corner of Raphael's mouth twitched.

The dark-haired woman scowled at the redhead before redirecting her attention to Raphael. She tucked a strand of curly black hair behind her ear and looked at him with an appraising look. "I've heard rumors about you, but I never held much stock to them. Turns out, though, that they are not too far from the mark," she said, possibly as an attempt to rile the man.

Raphael did not fall for it. "You said that Uncle sent you here," he replied calmly. "What purpose was that for?"

"Now we get down to business. My name is Annette Lenoir," she said briskly, not bothering to hold her hand out to shake Raphael's. "I am here to see just what sort of person I would be—_mon Dieu, qu'est-ce que c'est?" _

This last comment was directed at Valon, who had at last wandered downstairs to get himself a late breakfast; the boy was still wearing his pajamas, which consisted of a pair of gray pants and a baggy black t-shirt with a nameless cartoon character on it, and his hair was more unruly than usual.

At the sound of Annette's revolted voice the boy jumped, looking over at the appalled young woman in the armchair before his gaze shifted over to Raphael and Alister in confusion. "Who's the lady?" he asked bluntly. He had only just seen this woman, but he already disliked her on sight; the brunette knew very little French, but the tone of the comment told him well enough that it had not been friendly.

"Valon, meet Annette Lenoir. I'm sure she was about to explain why she was here before you came downstairs," said Alister frostily, gray eyes narrowed.

Annette drew herself up proudly, once again fixing Raphael with an imperious gaze. "As I was saying, I came here to see what sort of person you were, Raphael, and also so I could see how to get to know you better as time goes by. I was right, by the way, when I wondered what sort of dwelling you might choose to live in," she added, her expression speaking louder than words.

Valon frowned. "Wha' does tha' mean?" he asked. "Why would you 'ave t' get to know Raph?"

Annette laughed scornfully and Valon's frown deepened at once. "Dear boy, has he not told you?" she inquired condescendingly.

Raphael shot a baffled look to Alister. "I'm not sure I understand either, Miss Lenoir," he said slowly. "What was I supposed to have told Valon?"

The woman huffed once again exasperatedly. "Honestly, am I the only one who knows anything?" she said, reaching into her briefcase to pull out a few pieces of paper.

"Clearly, you are. We are but mere peons and do not understand," said Alister sardonically. "Of course, Her Majesty could deign to explain it to us."

Raphael took the paper from Annette's proffered hand and purposely ignored the nasty look she shot at the redhead as he began perusing the documents. A moment later, however, he frowned. "I don't understand what this is about," he said, flipping through the pages for an explanation.

"It is a legal document, Raphael, that certifies the recognition of a marital contract," Annette replied boredly, examining her fingernails.

"Wha's tha'?" Valon asked, looking to Alister for an explanation (the redhead had stiffened when Annette had finished speaking and was now eyeing the papers in their older friend's hands with apprehension).

"It means that someone's getting married," said Raphael, still uncertain. "But I really don't understand how this pertains to me," he continued slowly.

"It's simple, dear," Annette replied with a smile that did not quite reach her eyes. "This document recognizes that I am your fiancé and soon to be lawfully wedded wife."

The reaction was almost immediate.

Valon let out a horrified yelp and said something completely unintelligible, stumbling back until he hit the wall and placing his hands against it to hold him up before letting out a fervent exclamation.

Alister himself was openly startled, gray eyes wide with stunned disbelief before an expression slid onto this face that plainly said _you can't be serious. _Misa, who did not entirely recognize what was going on, meowed uncertainly and looked around at her owners with confusion.

Raphael, however, merely stared at Annette with a blank expression before he said faintly, "I'm sorry, but…_what_?"

* * *

_Translation(s) for this chapter:_

_"…mon Dieu, qu'est-ce que c'est?" = "My God, what is that?"_


	112. Wedding Bells: Part II

_*laughs* Woooow. You guys really, really, REALLY hate Annette, don't you? I got quite a few reviews stating that she was the equivalent to a hag (and then some…yikes). Oh , it's really funny in a bizarre sort of way…and I don't think you'll like her any more in this chapter either, because—well, you'll have to read and find out._

_Anyway, here is part two for your reading…pleasure…don't kill me D8_

* * *

"I don' b'lieve this. I don' believe it in the slightest," Valon said incredulously, watching Raphael fold another shirt and place it into a large suitcase later that night. "Why the 'eck are you _marryin_' tha' she-devil?"

"Valon, I've already discussed this with you," said the blonde man wearily.

"We know your reasoning. That doesn't mean that we like it," said Alister abruptly as he materialized in the doorway, frowning when Raphael purposely avoided both of his friend's gazes. "This is something I don't understand. You don't know that woman from Adam, and yet you're still going to subject yourself to that _farce_ of a human being? Why?"

Raphael sighed, reaching for another pair of socks and rolling them, setting them in the corner of his suitcase. "I don't really see how I have a choice in the matter," he said heavily, remembering the earlier encounter.

_"Wha' do you mean, lady? Why the 'eck does Raph 'ave t' marry you?" Valon asked, horrified._

_Raphael was still frantically trying to digest the fact that he now had a fiancé and said nothing, instead shifting his bewildered gaze back and forth between Alister, Valon, and Annette._

_"Wait a moment. This is a contract for an arranged marriage," Alister said as he looked over the papers. "That's a bit…archaic, isn't it?"_

_"Whether you like it or not, some of us are still as cultured as ever and the document is a binding one," said Annette severely. "It was an agreement made by our parents when we were children. I hardly see a way for you to get out of it, Raphael."_

_At this, Raphael finally snapped out of his stunned stupor and met Annette's gaze. "My parents agreed to this?" he said slowly, studying her with an unidentifiable expression._

_"Those are their signatures on the document, _non?" _replied Annette testily, snatching the document from Alister's hands to give it to Raphael. She turned to the last page and pointed at something on it._

_The older blonde returned his attention to the contract while Annette continued to speak, paying attention to her intently. "Now, the document states that you and I must be wed in front of an official and our parents. Since my father is ill and cannot possibly travel—and since your uncle is acting as your guardian in this stead—you will have to return to Paris for the wedding."_

_"'N' 'ow soon is tha'?" demanded Valon uneasily._

_"Next week, though neither of you are invited," said Annette distractedly (and ignoring the indignant outburst from the Australian), rising to her feet. "I have other appointments to attend to, Raphael, but our flight leaves tomorrow morning at nine thirty; I will be stopping by again at seven to give you a ride. You realize that this is what your parents intended for you, _non? _I'm quite confident that you will not refuse."_

"Raphael, with all due respect, your parents are _dead_. They can no more enforce that contract than they can grow wings and fly," said Alister sharply, breaking into the blonde's thoughts. "Besides, this whole thing sounds suspicious. Why would Pierre disown you if you had to get married later? That doesn't make any sense, and you know that."

"Can' you just say no?" Valon said in desperation, a frantic light in his eyes. "Raph, you're marryin' a bloody shrew. F'r cryin' out loud, mate, say no!"

"I can't," said Raphael quietly, looking at the Australian sadly. "If my parents said I have to marry Annette, then that's what I have to do."

"Yeah? Wha' about Ellie?" said Valon challengingly, and Raphael purposely looked away to stare at his clothes.

"Ellie will be fine; I'll call her once things have settled down," he said, not looking entirely at the teenager. "She's a friend, Valon. Nothing more."

Valon muttered a "yeah, right" just loud enough for his older friends to hear it, but Raphael seemed to be ignoring him at the moment.

"In case you've forgotten, this is not the seventeenth century. You are not under any obligation to honor that agreement," said Alister. "Look, I've been reading over that contract since she left. It does say that you can call it off at any time; it's not as binding as Annette thinks it is. You don't have to marry her."

The older blonde did not speak, only continued to pack.

Alister watched the man fold more clothes and place them into the suitcase for a long moment before he sighed heavily. "But you are, aren't you?" he said in resignation. When Raphael briefly dipped his head in confirmation, Alister said, "In that case, I already called your job and told them that you won't be back. One less thing for you to worry about."

"Thank you," replied the blonde, folding a pair of pants and placing them into his suitcase.

Valon, who had slumped dejectedly on Raphael's bed, turned his head so fast that there was an audible pop. "Wha' does tha' mean?" he asked, alarm dancing in his cerulean eyes. "O' course Raph'll be back!"

"No, he won't," said Alister quietly when Raphael still said nothing.

"Wha…why? Why isn' 'e comin' back?" asked Valon, shooting a frightened look to the blonde.

"You see, another term of this contract states that Raphael has to remain in France with Annette; she's a native Frenchwoman, and it's obvious she won't want to live here. Since he is going ahead with this thinly veiled form of enslavement," he continued with a bitter edge to his words, "he's going to stay there for the rest of his life. That's why he's been avoiding eye contact with us—he didn't want to tell us that."

The brunette looked to Raphael frantically. "Tha's not true, is it?" he asked, genuine terror lighting his eyes. "Raph, you really aren' leavin' f'r good, are you?"

Raphael visibly flinched at the sound of Valon's frightened voice, but continued to mechanically fold his clothing and put it in the bag.

"No…aw no, Raph. You can' leave like this!" said Valon almost angrily. "Tha's just wrong!"

"I'm not particularly a fan of that idea either, Raphael," said the redhead, glancing at the muscular man for a reaction. "I am also not a fan of the fact that you're holding yourself accountable to something you can easily walk away from and to a decision that's been made for you and is questionable at best."

"Valon. Alister. I need to pack right now and I really need to focus," said Raphael curtly, his facial expression impassive but his blue eyes flickering with pain as he finally looked at his younger friends. "Please leave."

Valon stared at the older blonde with a hurt and betrayed expression before he rose from the bed and practically flew from the room. Alister let the younger boy pass and continued to keep eye contact with Raphael, despite the sound of Valon's bedroom door slamming shut.

"Don't worry about your motorcycle or your car," he said quietly. "I doubt you'll need either of them, really. We'll handle things over here and ship anything you leave behind of that's important; I don't think you can fit everything in that bag. If you need either of us to send you something, go ahead and call us," he continued, turning and closing the door softly behind him.

Raphael placed the shirt he had folded into his suitcase before he sighed and sank onto the mattress, examining his hands miserably. He did not really want to go over to France and leave his two closest friends behind; he did not even _want _to get married yet, especially to Annette. But if his parents had agreed to this and had promised to fulfill their end of the bargain, then he was obligated to carry it out.

That did nothing to ease the ache in his chest.

* * *

"'is plane's taken off by now."

Valon's subdued voice broke the moody silence in the family room that had been there since Raphael's departure that morning. The brunette had followed Raphael out the door and had stood outside until the car holding both Annette and his best friend had vanished before fleeing back into the house and up the stairs to his room, where he had remained until now.

Alister, however, had refused to watch Raphael leave and had stubbornly sat on the sofa the entire time the older man had been walking out the door. However, the oddly strained voice that Raphael had used to say goodbye with bothered him just as badly as it would watching him walk out the door.

The red-haired man growled as his gray eyes landed on the papers that had heralded such trouble resting on the coffee table and he resisted the urge to set them on fire. "Well this _sucks_," he said angrily, uncharacteristically displaying his emotions. He sincerely hated the fact that his older friend had such a strict honor code; most of the time it was to be admired, but right now it was to be despised.

Valon sat down at the other end of the sofa, looking at the armchair that normally Raphael would be sitting in before shifting his attention to Alister. The expression on his face was similar to that of a lost child. "Wha' now, mate?" he asked hesitantly.

Alister sighed, the anger dissipating to be replaced with weariness as he looked back at the teenager wordlessly. He didn't want to say it, but he was sure that his emotional mask had cracked enough to display his answer to the teenager: _I don't know._


	113. Wedding Bells: Part III

_I'm still rather astounded by how many reviews I'm getting going, "NO! DON'T HAVE RAPHAEL MARRY ANNETTE!" You guys truly do hate her, don't you? I don't think I've ever had an OC hated this much—she's already received death threats *is amused*_

_I would have posted this tomorrow, but unforeseen circumstances have me posting this tonight, so applaud me, please. On another note, I forgot to mention this back on part I: "Lenoir" is pronounced _Luh-nwah _and kudos to anyone who knows what it means (without looking it up). Also, chapter 18 is referenced in here-you'll understand what when you get there._

_With that being said, here's part three!_

* * *

Raphael leaned tiredly into the back of his seat as the limo pulled out from the airport, declining the glass of champagne Annette offered him and barely taking notice of Paris' bustling scenery. The last fourteen hours or so of flight had gotten to him and he wanted nothing better than to take a nap; it had been a while since he had traveled on an airplane for longer than an hour and he was tired.

"At last, we are back in France," Annette said happily, pleased to be home once again as the buildings passed them outside the window. "I feel so much better already…though it will be a blessing when we arrive at your uncle's manor."

"We're going to Uncle's mansion?" Raphael repeated in confusion, looking to her for an explanation.

_"Oui,_ silly," she replied, taking a sip from the glass. "We will be staying there from now until the wedding."

"Isn't there a separate one to stay in?" asked Raphael, remembering all too unhappily that living with his uncle had been a nightmare—he was not looking forward to it. At the same time he felt oddly relieved; the idea of being alone with Annette in an unfamiliar setting had not appealed to him in the slightest.

The raven haired woman let out a laugh. "_Non_, _mon petit chou," _she said, taking another sip from the champagne glass. "Your uncle has insisted that he will be responsible for finding our home while we are on our honeymoon; he is quite charitable."

Ignoring Raphael's mixed expression (one third disbelieving, one third saying, "Charitable? HA," and the last third annoyed by the nickname he'd been given) she continued on. "Once we arrive the tailor will be helping you with your wardrobe; it is not nearly appropriate enough for your new settings," she said, eyeing his clothes distastefully.

Raphael declined to point out that, while his jeans, polo shirt, and tennis shoes were not made from the finest materials available, his current clothing was a far sight more comfortable than Annette's red silken shirt, black skirt, and pumps; the woman had been shifting uncomfortably in her seat the entire flight back.

Thirty minutes later Raphael saw the gate for his uncle's mansion and in spite of himself felt uneasy as they turned into the long and neatly decorated drive. The last time he had been in this mansion had resulted in a less than favorable outcome, and he could not honestly say that he was pleased to see this place once again.

He was also not pleased to notice that Pierre and his aunt were both waiting for him on the front steps. The last encounter with them had not ended well, either—anything involving this part of his family never ended well, come to think of it.

When the car pulled to a stop Raphael unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door, blinking in the sunlight as he moved to the rear of the limousine. Opening the trunk, Raphael reached inside and pulled out his suitcase to wheel it to the expansive house in front of him; he had only taken a few steps, however, before he was intercepted by the chauffeur.

"Please, _monsieur,"_ the suit-clad gentleman said briskly as he reached for the handle of the suitcase. "I will take your luggage."

Raphael debated on hanging onto it, but when he saw his aunt coming he released the suitcase and turned to face her; he kept a partial eye on the bag to make certain that the butler could carry his suitcase without hurting himself.

"Oh Raphael, it has been far too long," she said as she came up to him, arms open wide.

He looked down at her warily as she hugged him, feeling slightly uncomfortable and at a loss. "Hello, Aunt Edith," he said quietly, uncertain if he should return the embrace or not.

Edith released him quickly before turning to another suit-clad man (who was toting several other bags with him—presumably, Annette's luggage) and speaking rapidly in French. She turned back to her nephew and smiled. "Forgive me, dear, but you've come just as I was walking out the door; I'm going to be vacationing in Marseilles and will not be back until next week," she said, walking past him to head into the limousine. "I'm afraid I will be missing your wedding, but we will have more time to catch up later, won't we? After all, there is the whole process of applying for citizenship here in France once again!"

_Oh joy. _"I don't see how I could avoid it," Raphael said dryly, knowing perfectly well his reply would be ignored as his aunt had already slipped into the vehicle and had shut the door.

He turned back to face his uncle, who had been discussing with Annette in French, and he repressed a sigh. He may have been born in France, but his knowledge of the language was rusty since he had not had to significantly use it in years; the last time he had said more than a sentence in French had been when he had visited Paris after DOOM had been disbanded, but he had been asking for directions then. This was going to be slightly more challenging.

He noticed Pierre turn his head enough to take note of him and advance forward, no doubt to greet him cordially; the expression on his face said as much, which was oddly confusing. Considering that this was the man who had kicked him out of the family to begin with and had tried to use him as a scapegoat without even feeling a shred of remorse, that either meant that all was forgiven (which he highly doubted) or something was up.

No, wait. He was projecting…it was best to just let things play out. Maybe things would not be so bad here this time—perhaps his uncle had changed since their last encounter.

* * *

Nope. He'd been right: nothing had changed around here.

Raphael had forgotten just how strict Pierre and his aunt were in regards to apparel and behavior, but it had only taken ten minutes of his first day back spent in the presence of his uncle to remind him why he had left to begin with; he could not even begin to fathom what life would be if Pierre insisted on talking with him every day.

He almost sank in relief against the rich oak door of his new (but temporary) bedroom but decided instead to go across the expansive room and flop onto the large mattress; it had been a long day, and he was utterly exhausted. The quiet of his room was a welcome reprieve from the bustle of the mansion and in spite of himself his eyes slid shut.

The moment he had walked through the door that morning he had been literally attacked by the family tailor, who had proceeded to tell Raphael that his entire wardrobe would simply not do and he would not be allowed to wear anything he had brought from home. Raphael had half-known that was coming and had for the most part surrendered to the wishes of both his uncle and the tailor, allowing the short, balding, and agitated Frenchman take measurements for his new clothes—although he had put his foot down when it was suggested that he wear silk socks and boxers. That was crossing a line, he felt.

His fiancé had insisted on accompanying him everywhere he went for the rest of the day ("It has been quite some time since you have last visited this place. Think of me as your guide," she had said with a laugh) and while this had not initially been an issue it had become one in a matter of hours; Annette constantly complained to him about _everything_. Her clothes, Valon and Alister, her make-up, Valon and Alister, her feet and the shoes they were in, Valon and Alister, his former home and—well, if he kept up with this train of thought he'd just get annoyed all over again.

He sighed, opening his eyes again and sitting up on the bed to look at his suitcase. It did not look as if it had been unpacked, which meant he would have to do it himself—not that he minded. Raphael actually felt uncomfortable when the servants in the house insisted on doing tasks for him; he was too used to doing every day things on his own now, so to be able to unpack actually pleased him.

He easily lifted his suitcase and set it on the end of his bed, unzipping it so that he could take out his clothes—let the tailor say what he would, but the moment Raphael found a comfortable pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt he was going to sleep. Who says you need to be dressed nicely to go to bed?

Raphael was about halfway unpacked when something under a pair of socks caught his eye and he paused, frowning at it. It was something silver, he knew that much; the way the light kept catching it told him as much. Raphael set the pair of slacks he'd been holding in his hand down before pushing the pair of socks away to investigate the object beneath them.

His breath caught when his eyes landed on it.

It was the Santa photo, the one that had mysteriously shown up for Christmas two years ago; the assigned name had been from Valon, who still stubbornly believed Santa Claus had a hand in the picture's appearance. There was no way to mistake Valon's carefree grin and Alister's half-hidden smile in the photo. But how had it gotten here? He hadn't packed it.

Raphael blinked when he lifted the picture out of the bag and flipped it over to see what was different; his fingers had brushed against paper on the back of the frame and he knew for a fact there had not been anything there before.

Sure enough, a small piece of paper had been taped to the back of the frame; the paper was folded over and his name had been written on the front of it, likely by Alister if he had to wager a guess. It was too neatly written to be Valon's.

When he opened it, Alister's and Valon's handwriting greeted his eyes; Alister's was first, followed by Valon's somewhat sloppy scrawl, but it was still legible and he was able to read it.

_We both figured that it's highly unlikely you'll come back and we obviously can't afford to fly to France back and forth constantly, so instead we slipped this into your suitcase. I suspect it won't take long before you want to come back even though you can't, so a piece of home probably will go a long way to help you calm down._

Valon's handwriting followed Alister's, though it looked as if he had yanked the paper from Alister to write on it—the last word on his part of the note looked as if the pen had been jostled. Definitely something the boy would do, he thought wryly as he read over it.

_I kinda wanted to stick Misa in your bag (_and here Raphael felt somewhat alarmed and half turned to look at his bag to make sure that the cat was not in there)_, but Alister reckoned that the kitty would get mad and that you wouldn't really appreciate it, so we gave you the Santa picture instead. Don't let that shrew get ya down and don't forget us, okay?_

Raphael eyed the note sadly as he set the picture on his nightstand. "Believe me, you two. That won't happen," he said aloud, placing the note behind the picture gently with a rueful smile.

He would have given anything at this point, though, to have the both of them here. He could definitely use Alister's level-headed personality or Valon's bright and cheerful comments right now—they would be a welcome distraction from what was going to happen that Saturday.

In fact, anything as a distraction would be welcome at this point.

* * *

_Translation(s):_

_"Non, mon petit chou." = "No, my little cabbage." _

_(…*shudders*)_


	114. Wedding Bells: Part IV

_Here's part four! I'm putting this up before I go to bed, but go to my profile for an important news bulletin after you get done reading this._

_You know, I'm kinda curious to see how the reviews for this chapter go. I can't say too much yet, because that will spoil it, but maybe I should give you a hint…NAH. You'll just have to read it and find out. _

_HUGE shout out goes to PurpleWildcat2010 for the assistance with the French dialogue, and without further ado here's the next installment!_

_PS: OMG THIS IS ONE OF THE LONGEST CHAPTERS FOR THIS SERIES D8_

_PPS: Thanks, A .Clueless. Conundrum, for spotting the line separator error at the bottom. I have no idea how that happened._

* * *

Raphael adjusted the collar of the dress shirt uncomfortably, grimacing when this did nothing to relieve the tension it was putting on his throat. He absolutely _hated _this shirt, especially since the tailor who had fitted him for it had not taken Raphael's broad shoulders into account and as a result he could barely move his arms without threatening to rip his shirt.

He sighed, eyeing the jacket on the bed that he was supposed to be wearing with it before growling and picking it up, deliberately throwing it under his bed. The shirt was bad enough, but coupled with the ill-fitting jacket it was complete torture and he would not subject himself to wearing it again. He did not care about who was coming over here today—he'd spent a week entertaining Pierre's assorted house guests and going over minor details for the wedding. Frankly, he needed a break.

He growled in frustration before crossing the room and opening his window to look out over the estate. His gaze wandered restlessly back and forth until they landed on the garden that sat nearly beneath his window. He had found that taking refuge there had calmed his frazzled nerves, especially since the gardener there had not shooed him away when he had arrived; the elderly but fit man allowed him to remain there, not to mention that there was something oddly familiar about the older gentleman.

Raphael frowned when he noted that the gardener was in the middle of transferring a young sapling tree into the ground—the gardener looked as if he needed some assistance. After debating a moment Raphael turned from the window and, after making certain no one was in the hallway outside, left his room. Annette had gone shopping for the day, thankfully allowing him some peace and quiet, but Pierre was probably around and Raphael was in no mood to deal with him.

Ten minutes later, Raphael found himself outside in the pleasantly cool weather and he turned into the garden. "_Monsieur__, avez-vous besoin d'aide?" _he asked as he came closer to the older man.

The gardener looked up from the tree he had been about to lift from the pot, initially startled by Raphael's presence but quickly masking it. He eyed Raphael for a moment with his brown eyes before saying, "_Si vous voulez. Levez cet arbre au pot dans le trou, s'il vous plait."_

He continued to watch Raphael as the taller man stepped closer before he said, "_Voulez-vous changer dans une chemise différent? Celle-là est plutôt agréable."_

"_Non_," said Raphael pleasantly as he easily lifted the sapling from the pot, pleased when he noticed that the mud from the base of the tree was pressed against the shirt. He would love to see anyone try to get the streaks of dirt out of the material. He was also pleased when he heard the shirt let out a ripping sound and some of the tension in his shoulders loosened—yet another way to ruin it.

The gardener noticed the expression on Raphael's face and chuckled, continuing to watch as the younger man set the sapling in the ground. "You must truly hate that shirt, then," he said with an English accent.

Raphael turned his head to look back at the other man in surprise. "You're from England?" he said, startled into speaking English as well. "I thought you only spoke French."

"Yes, but nearly everyone here speaks the native language," said the gardener cheerfully as he handed Raphael a shovel. "I'm from London to be more precise, though I was born out in Cambridge. I'm Anthony," he continued, holding out a hand to shake the blonde's. "I know who you are—the servants have been gossiping about you since you've arrived."

"You don't say," Raphael replied dryly as he began pushing the dirt back in the hole with the shovel. "Glad to see that I'm popular around here."

Anthony chuckled. "Quite popular, seeing how as the black sheep has returned to the fold," he said, earning a wry expression from Raphael. He studied the younger man intently before saying, "I know you aren't probably going to be pleased with this next question, but I can't help but feel as if you are feeling a bit bothered by something."

Raphael paused. "It couldn't be because I'm getting married tomorrow," he said sarcastically as he shoveled more dirt into the small hole.

"Hm. Yes, I've heard about that," said the gardener, lifting his broad brimmed hat and readjusting it over his graying brown hair. "Tricky business, that. Contracts can be a pain sometimes to deal with."

"You know about the arranged marriage?"

Anthony shrugged lightly. "But of course, dear boy. As I've mentioned, it's been the topic of discussion here for quite some time," he said. He frowned as he looked back to Raphael, who had finished shoveling and was watching him with startled blue eyes. "What I'm having trouble understanding is why you would go through with such a choice."

"If it's what my parents agreed to, then I have to fulfill my end of their agreement," said Raphael quietly.

The other man gazed at Raphael with an unidentifiable expression. "Ah, so that's it. It's your sense of honor that's binding you to such an unfortunate future," he mused, half to himself. "Your father displayed the exact same honor code when it came to business matters, as did your mother."

Anthony looked back at him and asked, "Is there someone you care for that is not Annette? And be honest—I've been told that you cannot really lie."

Raphael hesitated. "…There might have been, if I'd had more time," he said softly, thinking of Ellie.

The older gentleman smiled sadly. "You know," he said quietly, "I knew your parents, more than most people realize. I'd even seen you a couple of times when you were younger—and not such a problem for the tailors," he added with amusement when Raphael grimaced.

Anthony looked up to the sky above them, a faraway expression on his face. "I was at their wedding, and I can honestly say that their marriage took everyone by surprise. They met, they fell in love, and the next thing anyone knew they were engaged," he said. "Your father was many things, but he never was fond of the concept of an arranged marriage. He despised it, in fact, and swore long before he met your mother that such a thing would never happen."

"So then why is there a contract with their signatures? I've never even _met_ Annette before!" said Raphael exasperatedly, throwing his hands in the air out of frustration. "Why didn't they tell me?"

"That's the odd thing," said Anthony, raising an eyebrow at him. "You know, I didn't even catch wind of this until your uncle came back from Domino and said that he had encountered you; I've been involved with this family for years, yet I never even heard a whisper about the contract until a couple weeks ago."

Raphael frowned at the new information. He knew his uncle well enough to realize that there should have been wedding announcements of some kind. Pierre would have wanted attention for what was going on, especially since Raphael was involved. The whole "prodigal son returning, apologetic and meek" situation would have been one Pierre would have exploited to the fullest.

So why hadn't he?

"Pierre is not as honest as you or I," continued Anthony darkly. "I wouldn't put it past him to try something. He does not care for people, but for the reputation that they hold; I'm sure that even Ms. Lenoir's happiness has been compromised because of him. It's probably why he doesn't care for your friends as much."

Raphael started. "You even know about Alister and Valon?" he asked, incredulous.

Anthony merely looked at him with amusement. "You'll find that I know plenty of things—it was a common trait I shared with your father, and pulling random stores of knowledge out to use seems to be a trait that was passed onto you."

The blonde stared back at the elderly gentleman, realization dawning on him as to why this man had seemed so familiar. "You…are you—?"

"_Raphael!"_

Anthony grimaced. "And here is where I take my leave," he murmured, moving slowly along the path and past the raven haired woman storming down the path. Raphael made to go after the older man, but then his fiancé moved into his path and effectively blocked it.

"Raphael, what _have _you done to your shirt?" she said sharply, peridot eyes flashing as she marched up to him.

"The gardener needed assistance and no one else would help," he said shortly. "I figured I would help him."

Annette paused, obviously struggling to get her temper under control, before a sickly sweet smile graced her features. "Of course," she said, latching gingerly onto his arm (she had seen the mud and was trying to avoid it at all costs). "I keep forgetting that I am marrying such a _sweet_ gentleman."

Raphael dusted his hands off, taking care not to brush dirt on Annette as the two made their way back into the house. He looked around for the elderly gentleman as he headed indoors but saw no sign of him.

What he did not know was that Anthony had walked around the corner and was watching the two younger people enter the mansion with a sad smile. "I've given you the food for thought. Now start putting two and two together, grandson. I'm confident you can do it," he said, turning on his heel and moving further down the path.

* * *

"Just imagine it, Raphael. In just a few short hours it will be our wedding day," said Annette gaily, clinging to his (now mud-free) arm as they moved through the mansion. "_C'est incredible, _no?"

Raphael shook his head. "Believe me, I'm having a hard time grasping that concept myself," he said honestly, earning another laugh from Annette and rolling his shoulders uncomfortably; he had been forced to change into yet another ill-fitting shirt after he had come in.

"Ah yes, it is something quite difficult to believe," she said, sighing contentedly as she leaned against his arm. "It's so odd at how fast the week went by, isn't it? It's almost as if time grew wings and flew."

She stayed silent for a moment before she said, "Is something bothering you? You do not seem to be very happy right now."

Raphael could have told her as much (or he could have done an Alister and say, "DUH."), but instead he contented himself with an honest response. "I'm just thinking. There's a lot that's about to happen."

The raven haired woman eyed him for a moment, her eyes showing an emotion he could not describe. "It is such a shame we could not invite anyone from your immediate family to be here," she said, causing Raphael to flinch—the mention of his parents and siblings was not a welcome one. "Of course, we could have invited your…friends, but I highly doubt that they could have dressed appropriately for such an occasion," she continued, her words taking on a slightly disgusted note.

The blonde growled. "Annette, we've discussed this. Please don't talk about Alister or Valon unless you can say something kind," he said firmly.

Annette waved a hand dismissively. "In any event, we will not be seeing them any time soon," she said with an airy laugh, though Raphael was not amused.

"Annette," he said, his tone carrying just a slight hint of a warning in it.

The raven haired woman let out a dramatic sigh before adjusting her grip on his arm. "Very well. Even though we will be having so few guests at the wedding I suppose I can count it as a blessing that your friends will not be included with that number. I can't say I'm pleased with this, but not having your friends here is a small consolation."

The comment caused Raphael to stop walking, and it was not because of the slight made against his friends. "Wait a minute. What do you mean?" he asked.

"Your uncle did not tell you? The wedding ceremony is going to be a private affair; there will not be very many guests, since Pierre mentioned that you do not prefer crowds and that no one would come to the wedding any way," she said, confused as to why her fiancé had stopped walking.

_Since when has Pierre done anything to make me feel comfortable? _Something was wrong—what was really going on here? Anthony had raised some interesting questions earlier, and this latest news made him all the more suspicious. Pierre really was up to something.

He had been mulling over these thoughts and had not been paying to Annette, who had continued speaking on despite his sudden lack of interest in the conversation, but then he abruptly heard her say, "It isn't quite the wedding I'd envisioned with him but…well, there is nothing he can do now."

The way Annette had said it, with that wistful voice and saddened expression, told him that the woman had not been referring to him with this comment. He looked down at her with a confused expression. "Who?"

Annette suddenly blanched, her eyes widening and an uncomfortable expression breaking her arrogant mask; clearly she had not been expecting Raphael to be listening to her and she was caught off guard. "Oh no. I said nothing," she said with a nervous laugh. "I was merely thinking out loud. Don't pay any attention to me."

Raphael did not buy it in the slightest. "Who were you referring to?" he asked, turning so that he was facing her in the spacious hallway.

"He's no one_," _she said agitatedly, now looking openly distressed.

"He?" Raphael said, watching her intently to try and determine her reaction. "Annette, who—?"

"No one!" she said in half desperation, deliberately looking away from him to avoid eye contact. "Really, Raphael, he's not anyone of concern!"

Raphael studied her for a moment, scrambling to put the pieces of the puzzle together before suddenly his eyes widened and everything fell into place; Anthony's earlier words echoed in his mind as confirmation: _I'm sure even Ms. Lenoir's happiness has been compromised…_

"Annette," he began gently, his eyes softening, "_vous aimez de quelqu'un d'autre ?"_

The woman's head snapped up suddenly to stare at him, her face perfectly blank.

"Do you love someone else?" he repeated in English softly. "Be honest, Annette. Please."

The black haired woman kept looking at him for one last second before she turned her head, her face hidden by her hair. A long minute passed before she nodded mutely, her shoulders slumping in resignation.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" he asked.

Annette laughed bitterly. "What difference would it make to me?" she asked, her eyes over bright and a catch in her voice. "Unlike you, I do not have the luxury to back out of this agreement."

It was as if a light bulb had gone off in his brain. "That's why you've been acting so nasty and so angry," he said slowly. "You've been trying to get me to break off the marriage."

"I figured that if I insulted you long enough that perhaps you would reconsider; I knew it was a failed cause," she said, mistaking Raphael's stormy expression for a contradiction. "Your uncle made things clear that you would go through with this regardless of what you or I felt."

"Uncle Pierre has been saying a lot of things lately," said Raphael grimly, eyes narrowing.

He looked back to Annette and his gaze softened once again. "I take it that you don't want to go through with this," he said quietly.

The young woman flinched, looking conflicted. It was quite obvious, however, in her eyes—there was really no way to mistake her answer.

The blonde nodded to himself in determination. "Then it's settled. I'm not going to hold you responsible to the contract," he said simply, causing Annette's mouth drop open and open surprise to display itself on her face.

"But you…and your parents—"

"—would not have wanted this to happen," he said, cutting over her firmly. "I don't see much purpose in marrying you when it's obvious that you don't want to go through with it. Agreement or not, I don't think my parents would have forced you into a marriage you didn't want."

She looked at him with surprise. "You mean…all I had to do was tell you that I loved someone else from the start and you would have released me from this contract?" she said.

Raphael simply nodded.

Annette stared at him for one last moment, completely floored, and then she moved forward to give him a brief hug. Surprised, Raphael's arms instinctively wrapped around her; the embrace lasted only a few seconds before the two stepped away from each other.

"This is nothing against you," she said quietly. "You have been a gentleman to me, even when I was acting with less than desirable behavior. For that, I thank you and I hope you forgive me; you'll have to apologize to your friends for me. But it's that…I have Richard, and—"

"I understand," he replied just as quietly, smiling reassuringly at her. "Go."

She smiled back at him before turning and hurrying down the hall, no doubt preparing to pack her things. Raphael, however, did not watch her go—he was already heading for the staircase, a grim expression on his face.

It was high time he got to the bottom of things.

* * *

Pierre blinked when Raphael strode into the office, setting his gold pen down on the desk's surface to look at him. "Raphael, is something the matter?" he asked uncertainly, noticing the no-nonsense expression on his nephew's face.

"I'm fine. Actually, I'm better than I've been in days," said Raphael with feigned cheerfulness. "I have some news for you, though. The wedding is off."

Pierre froze for just a second before half rising to his feet. "What? Why?" he asked, alarm in his green eyes.

"Annette loves someone else, and I'm not about to force her into—"

"But you simply can't just back out of an agreement like this, especially since your parents agreed to honor it," his uncle snapped, cutting Raphael off. "And you choose to do this now, on the night before the wedding?"

"I do, actually; I believe I have that right," said Raphael calmly, unperturbed. "I won't force anyone to do anything against their will, especially if it's a lifetime commitment; even if my parents agreed to this, I'm not going to force her to marry me. That's not the right thing to do. Call whoever you have to and apologize for the inconvenience I'm causing them; I'll apologize in person to them myself, if you like. But in any event, the wedding is off."

Pierre stared at his nephew for a moment before cursing under his breath in French. "Your parents would be disgusted at this," he snapped, causing Raphael to growl at the back of his throat. Continuing on over the beginning of the blonde's retort, he said, "Your actions have besmirched this family's name enough. Now you are planning to do more damage to it?"

Raphael's eyes had narrowed and his shoulders were taut with anger. Before he could reply, however, a voice from the doorway cut over him. "Actually, I beg to differ. He's actually doing the right thing."

Pierre's eyes widened at someone behind Raphael, but even as he himself began to turn the burly man already knew who would be standing there—there was only one person with that voice. The real question was just _how_ that person had gotten here, he thought as he turned his disbelieving gaze to the door.

The person in question was leaning carelessly against the mahogany doorframe, clad in his trademark duster and midriff bearing tank top and with an uncaring mask on his face. His gray eyes went to Raphael for just a second and he could have sworn he saw relief in them, but then they went to Pierre and his eyes narrowed.

"You know," Alister began conversationally, breaking the stunned silence, "I wonder if it's too early for the whole, 'Speak now or forever hold your piece,' bit. Maybe it's too late, but I don't really care. I'm sure there are a couple of people who are still going to say, 'I object.'"

* * *

_Translations:_

_"Monsieur__, avez-vous besoin d'aide?" = "Sir, do you need help?"_

_"__Si vous voulez. Levez cet arbre au pot dans le trou, s'il vous plait.__" = "If you want. Lift this tree from the pot into this hole, please."_

_"__N'auriez__voulez-vous changer dans une chemise différent? Celle-là est plutôt agréable.__"= "Wouldn't you like to wear a different shirt? It's a rather nice one."_

_"…aimez-vous de quelqu'un d'autre ?" = "…do you love someone else?"_


	115. Wedding Bells: Part V

_SURPRISE! Annette was NOT the bad guy after all! _

_Ha ha ha ha ha. No one saw that coming—and I bet that no one saw this update coming either; by the way, Annette accepts your apologies *laughs*. I got back earlier than expected and managed to get this up (and I can truthfully say that THIS is the longest update for this story yet - OOPS)._

_So, without further ado here's the last part to this story arc. Thank you guys for your reviews and I hope you enjoyed it!_

* * *

Pierre stared mutely at the skinny man standing in the doorway, his green eyes narrowing almost immediately. "How did you get in here?" he demanded sharply at last, glaring with barely suppressed venom at the other man.

Alister raised an eyebrow, his expression equally venomous. "I knocked on the front door and someone let me in?" he suggested sarcastically. "Or is that too common an answer?"

His uncle scowled at the red-haired man at the same time that Raphael snorted in laughter. "I have half a mind to call the police on you for trespassing," said the Frenchman indignantly, reaching for the pearl handled phone.

"Oh good. Go ahead and do that," said Alister bluntly. "I'm sure they would _love_ to hear all about the scam you've been trying to pull over on Raphael and Ms. Lenoir."

The brunette froze, his face only slightly paling.

Raphael frowned, shooting first his uncle and then Alister a quizzical look, silently asking for an explanation. He had a vague idea that he knew what the red-haired man meant, but he was still uncertain for the moment and decided to let Alister speak; he was hoping that it was not what he thought it was, but unfortunately he had a sinking feeling he already knew.

Alister, however, seemed to have read his older friend's mind. "I was bluffing just now, but that reaction was all I needed to get an answer out of you," he said to Pierre coldly, gray eyes hardening into steel. "I don't believe it. You actually…you know, I really wish Valon was here at the moment because then he could properly express the outrage."

He stepped into the office before he pulled out a manila folder from the depths of his coat. "I wondered about this whole little scenario from the moment Ms. Lenoir walked through the door, so being naturally curious I decided to look into the matter," he said grimly, setting the folder on Pierre's desk.

Pierre's face purpled when Alister stepped away from the desk. "I assume you had a warrant?" he asked with controlled calm, eyes flashing furiously.

The red-haired man chose to deliver a stare that could ice over fire. "Do you mind? I'm talking—I believe that in this society's mind frame it's rude to interrupt," he said coolly."Besides, being a hooligan means I don't necessarily need a warrant, do I?" he finished sardonically

When Pierre said nothing further, Alister continued to speak. "There are two documents in there. The first is the last page of the wedding contract that Annette thoughtfully left for us; the second is from your family's will," he said, shooting an apologetic glance to Raphael. "You had it in the filing cabinet, so I decided in this instance it would be wise to use it," he continued by way of explanation, addressing the blonde with this comment.

Raphael dipped his head imperceptibly in understanding, subtly asking Alister to continue.

"Valon and I went over the contract for a while, but it wasn't until I looked at the last page that I realized that something was up. The wedding contract hadn't been notarized by a lawyer; there was no signature on there, yet on the copy of the will there was a signature from a lawyer that made it official," said Alister. "When I noticed that, I had to wonder why a lawyer hadn't checked into it—surely you would make certain that this was an official document."

He paused, continuing to glare at Pierre. "It was Valon who noticed what the connection between the will and the document you sent us," he said quietly. "He noticed that something was off and called my attention to it, and after a little bit of examining I figured out what was wrong."

The redhead gestured to the folder sitting innocently on the desk. "I circled the signatures on both of those pages in red pen," resumed Alister quietly, shooting a malevolent glare to Pierre. "Since you obviously know the truth and probably won't look at them, let me go ahead and say it out loud: although I can't conclusively prove this in regards to Mr. Lenoir's signature, the signatures from Raphael's parents are forged."

Raphael stiffened. "_What?" _

Pierre's jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

"That's not quite all. Once we realized that the signatures were forged, we looked into the Lenoir family to figure out why you would forge those signatures—Google is a_ wonderful_ thing," said Alister sarcastically. "It so turns out that the family is quite rich. More so, in fact, than yours. And with the patriarch of that family suffering from dementia, it would be all too easy to pull the wool over everyone's eyes."

Raphael unfortunately understood what Alister was driving at. "You decided to use me as a means to keep the money in the family," he said in disgust, the beginnings of anger stirring inside him. "Is that correct?"

His uncle lifted his chin haughtily. "I can't say that I disagree with your friend there," he said calmly at last.

"Do you mind telling me why?" asked Raphael, his voice not betraying how angry he truly felt at the moment.

"Simple, dear boy. Your actions against this family have been quite disgraceful and have degraded its reputation to the absolute bottom of the barrel. I have spent years trying to get it back to its former glory, but on our last encounter you tore down all of my progress. Therefore, I decided that it was time that you should begin to do your part to repair your family name," said Pierre with a dismissive wave of his hand. "By marrying Annette you would be fixing the damage that you did and doing your duty to this family."

The silence that followed this explanation was almost deafening.

Alister only had to take one look at Raphael's suddenly furious expression before he very quietly slipped past his older friend and out the door, closing the door behind him; the fact Raphael was visibly angry was a warning bell, and he knew better than to stick around. The sound of the door shutting was what finally broke the silence and what spurred the anger boiling inside the blonde.

"Repair the damage that _I_ did?" he asked with a derisive laugh, blue eyes lit with cold fire. "No—the damage that you're trying to fix is entirely your fault. I never _asked_ to get disowned. I never wanted your pity or your charity, if you can even call everything you've done that much. _You_ are the one who needs to repair the damage to _your_ family's reputation. _My _family has nothing to do with you."

Pierre opened his mouth, but Raphael delivered a scathing glare that could melt steel and it caused the other man's face to pale. "You. Will. Be. _Silent,_" he snarled furiously, and his uncle visibly recoiled from the sheer amount of anger displayed on his nephew's face.

"Now, I am going to go upstairs, I am packing, and then I am going _home. _You will _not_ drag me into your problems so that I can be used as a solution to them. You will not attempt to contact me again, and you will leave me and my friends alone. If you try to use me as a way to repair your reputation again I _will_ let everyone here know what you tried to do to me and Annette—and I will do it in a heartbeat, so don't you _dare_ test me, Pierre," he ground out when the other man opened his mouth to likely object.

He glared at his uncle for one last minute to determine if his point had gotten across before turning on his heel and storming to the door.

"Raphael, how dare you talk to me in this manner!" said Pierre, outraged and clearly expecting an apology. "Surely your parents taught you how to manage your anger better than threatening me!"

It was all Raphael could do to stay where he was. Pierre had pushed him enough as it was—the comment was the last blow to his very thin patience.

The blonde man looked backwards and shot his uncle a look that was honestly terrifying in its wrath. "You have no idea how close I am to punching you in the face," he said darkly, an angry tremor in his voice. "So I suggest that you stop talking and let me leave before I do something that I'll regret."

Pierre went sheet white at the other man's nearly murderous expression, his next words dying before he even opened his mouth. The burly man kept eye contact with him long enough to gather that the Frenchman would not try to stop him again before exiting the study.

Raphael nearly slammed the door behind him and marched down the hall until he was at the foot of the front staircase, struggling to reign in his temper; his fists were clenched tightly, he was visibly trembling, and if he were to punch the wall he would end up putting a hole in it. He had rarely lost his temper to this degree—the last time he had was when he had found out the truth about Dartz.

"Raphael?"

Alister was watching him silently from where he was standing near the staircase, his face as blank as stone as he looked at him. "I figured that you needed some space—dealing with back-stabbing family members isn't my forte," he continued.

When his older friend did not immediately reply, the redhead hesitated for a moment longer before walking up to him, gently setting his hand on the taller man's shoulder; although he said nothing, the apology was plainly visible on his face.

Raphael glanced at him and some of the tension left his shoulders, his previous anger beginning to die down. "I'm fine, Alister," he said, giving him a small but genuine smile.

The other biker watched him intently. "With family like them, who needs enemies?" he asked, arching an eyebrow in distaste.

Raphael's small smile grew larger in spite of himself. "Ha ha," he retorted half-heartedly.

Something behind him caught the slender man's attention and he smirked, causing the other man to look at him with confusion. "You don't think I came here alone, do you?" Alister asked, returning his attention to the stairs.

Raphael shot him a puzzled expression before he heard an excited and familiar voice from behind him. "Raph Raph Raph _RAPH__!"_

Something ran around him and barreled into him, knocking the breath from his lungs and dissipating the remaining anger he was currently feeling. Raphael nearly fell off his feet, but he managed to regain his balance and he looked down at the person currently affixed to his waist.

"Hello to you too, Valon," he said, chuckling when he recognized the blue eyes looking up at him. "Do you mind letting me breathe?"

The Australian grinned up at him brightly, rolling up one of the sleeves to his red jacket once again; it had fallen down after he had tackled Raphael. "Sure," he said cheerfully, stepping away. "We didn' come too late, did we? You 'itched t' tha' she-devil?"

The blonde lifted his right hand mutely, allowing Valon to see his ring-free hand. "Does that answer the question?" he said, beginning to climb up the stairs. Alister and Valon both followed after him, hurrying to catch up with him. "Annette is not so bad, by the way; I'll explain it later," he added in amusement when both of the shorter men shot him disbelieving expressions.

"This place is _'uge. _I was wanderin' around 'ere f'r the better part of twen'y minutes but I couldn' find your room. Then nobody'd 'elp me find it 'cause they all spoke French!" said Valon exasperatedly, bouncing up the last two stairs of the grand staircase to trail after Raphael. "You'd need a GPS t' navigate 'round 'ere!"

The blonde looked down in amusement at the teenager. "Why were you trying to find my room?" he inquired.

"I sent him up because I was hoping that he could get your things all packed up by the time you went back upstairs," said Alister in reply, dipping his head in greeting to a young maid (who had just come out of one of the rooms and was staring at the small group in surprise). "By the way, that shirt doesn't look like it even fits you properly."

Raphael nodded. "The moment I get into the room I am getting out of this shirt," he said, pausing for a moment to look at Valon contemplatively. "Valon, I don't do this very often but I'm making an exception. You're allowed to burn this shirt and the jacket it is supposed to go with when we get back home."

The Australian stared back in surprise before a wicked grin split his features. "Aye, captain!" he chirped, bounding further down the expansive hallway.

The older man shook his head in amusement before redirecting his attention to Alister. "How did you both get here? And how did you figure out everything?" he asked with a slight frown. "I know you're a walking CSI lab, but I do have to ask how you managed to come up with all that. There's no way that Google had information on Annette's father's dementia; that kind of knowledge is usually classified."

Alister raised an eyebrow. "There was a reason I didn't delve into the whole, 'how did you do it?' scenario; it would have just made things even more awkward and I figured your aunt deserved at least the common courtesy of not being ousted in front of her husband."

Raphael stopped walking altogether. "_Aunt Edith_ told you?" he asked, stunned.

"Not quite so as you'd notice, but she did call the house and made a vague reference to both Annette's father and to the notarization from the lawyer a couple days ago; I don't think even she liked what Pierre was trying to do. That made us look at the signatures from your parents and that was when Valon—surprisingly—noticed that there was a difference between the signatures."

"Then we got another call yesterday from some bloke tellin' us tha' 'e 'ad plane tickets f'r us at the airport," said Valon, who had doubled back once he had realized that his two older friends had stopped walking. "Me 'n' Alister wasted no time once 'e told us tha' we'd end up 'ere, 'n' so we took the next flight 'n' 'ere we are!"

"Someone bought your tickets?" asked Raphael, his frown deepening.

"Yes, as well as your ticket for the return trip home; our flight leaves at ten," said Alister with a slight frown. "When we asked him how he knew you, he told us that he had known you for a long time although it had been a while since he had seen you."

Raphael's troubled expression cleared and on a sudden hunch he asked, "Did he have an English accent?"

"Yup," said Valon, exchanging confused glances with Alister before looking to the eldest of his friends. "Why, you know 'im?"

"Possibly," said Raphael as he stopped in front of his room and opened the door, stepping inside it.

Valon whistled as he filed in after the older blonde. "You were livin' in _'ere, _mate?" he asked, looking around him with an awed expression. "Geez, you could fit three…no, five o' my rooms in 'ere! It's 'uge!"

Raphael honestly laughed. "If you think this is big, go check out the bathroom. It's larger than this room."

The Australian grinned before wandering around the room, looking around at his surroundings with vivid curiosity. Alister, however, grimaced. "How on earth were you supposed to take up this much space?" he asked the older man.

Raphael arched an eyebrow in amusement. "You do realize I was only living here temporarily? There was going to be a whole separate mansion before I called off the wedding," he said, noting Valon's surprised expression when the boy wandered into the bathroom.

The slender man grunted. "I still have no idea what you would have done with all that space," he said dismissively, his gray eyes roaming around the room before going to the nightstand. "So you found the picture?" he asked.

"Yeah. Please tell me Valon was not seriously contemplating on stuffing Misa in my suitcase," replied Raphael.

"You better b'lieve I was! Misa would 'ave 'elped you better than a picture, but Alister wouldn' let me," said Valon, popping his head out of the bathroom before disappearing inside the large room again. "Raph, you're right. This room's bigger than the garage! GEEZ!" he cried, his voice echoing inside the room.

The blonde sighed. "Good thing you stopped him before he tried it. I can't imagine trying to get through airport security with Misa in my bag," he said dryly. He glanced at Alister and offered a slight smile. "Thanks for the picture," he said.

Alister shrugged. "I figured you needed it more than we did," he said as an explanation, but Raphael heard the silent, "You're welcome," in that statement.

He reached for the suitcase next to his bed, ready to start packing so that he could go home as quickly as he could. He blinked when he noted that it was rather heavy for an empty suitcase and he shot it a baffled expression. "What on earth?"

He lifted it up onto the mattress, unzipping it so that he could see what was inside it—and then stared in bewilderment. Alister noticed and came over to investigate as well. "Were you already planning to leave?" he asked, noticing the folded clothing.

"No," said Raphael, utterly confused. "I wasn't. Someone's packed my suitcase."

His eyes landed on a slip of paper resting on top of one of his folded shirts and he lifted it up, unfolding it so that he could read the narrow but elegant handwriting.

_I figured you were leaving tonight, if not tomorrow, so I went ahead and had a maid pack your things; I'll keep this short, since you need to get home as quickly as you can. I would see you off (and in fact I would have interfered more in this whole dilemma), but I am not a welcome face around here; your uncle and I don't quite see eye to eye. Believe me, what Pierre tried to do will not go unanswered by me—don't trouble yourself any further with your uncle._

_Also, do not let that farce of a human being tell you that you made the wrong decision—I believe your parents would be extraordinarily proud of you and they will always be._

_Regards,_

_Anthony Knighton_

_PS: I did not bother packing any of the shirts you received from the tailor—I do believe you'd love nothing better than to burn each and every one of them._

"Knighton…is he related to you?" asked Alister with notable surprise.

"My grandfather," said Raphael, confirming Alister's question. "I thought so…he was masquerading as the gardener; when I was younger he and my grandmother would always tend to their garden. He and Pierre never really got along, and in fact my grandfather wasn't supposed to be here at all; I think there's a restraining order involved somewhere, though I'm not sure why."

"Oh, I get it," said Valon, leaping onto the bed to look up at his friends. "Your grandpa musta 'eard 'bout all o' this, so 'e tried t' stop it. But then when 'e couldn' get at the contract t see it 'e…ehhh…'m not a detective, Alister. You come up with anythin'?"

Raphael reached for the photograph sitting on his nightstand, lifting up a few shirts to gently place it under them. "He must have come here to let me know that something was up since he couldn't directly tell me himself," he said, setting the note from his grandfather down with equal care on top of the photograph before replacing the shirts and zipping up his suitcase; before he did he took out a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. "I don't understand why he didn't simply tell me that he was here, though."

Alister looked to the clock and stiffened. "Not to interrupt you two when you're on a roll, but our flight home leaves at ten and it's nine thirty. I suggest we leave—like, _now_."

* * *

Valon stretched as the trio advanced further into Domino's airport. "'ome at last!" he said cheerfully as he gracefully backpedaled to look at his older companions. "I don' 'ave t' try 'n' speak French anymore!"

"And thank heaven we're back," said Alister grumpily. "If I'd had to sit next to you for one more minute I think I honestly would have screamed. Not to mention that because of you we nearly missed our flight."

"'ey, I didn' know I wasn' allowed t' 'ave tha' soda in my backpack!" said Valon defensively.

"Well now you do," said Raphael tiredly, heading toward the luggage carousel to get his luggage. He glanced at the clock and stifled a yawn—it was only noon, but he was already tired and would have loved nothing better than to go home and take a nap.

Alister's cell phone beeped loudly, causing the redhead to start. He took his phone out of his pocket and flipped it open, glancing at the text message before he replied to it, a wicked smirk appeared on his face. He sent the reply and then showed the phone to Valon, who also gained a smile and looked at Raphael with a similar look.

Raphael frowned uneasily at their expressions. "All right, you two. What did you do?" he asked as he set his suitcase down.

"You remember that I told you I called your job to say you weren't coming back, right?" said Alister, an amused light appearing in his gray eyes.

The burly man nodded slowly. "Yeah, I remember."

"Well, I lied," said Alister flatly. "I told them you had to deal with a family emergency and that you would be back in a week or so."

The blonde stared.

"What? I'm a better liar than you are," said Alister with a careless shrug.

"Anyways, chum, Alister didn' necessarily call your boss t' relay this info," said Valon, grinning widely. "'e called someone t' relay this news—and 'e also told 'em tha' they could come 'ere 'n' meet us when you got back to make sure you were all right."

Raphael didn't entirely understand what either of them were talking about until he heard a relieved voice over the bustling crowd of the airport. "Mr. Knighton!"

He jumped, turning around in time to spot Ellie hurrying toward them; the young woman was clad in a dark turtleneck sweater and a white skirt, her brown eyes lighting up with relief and delight as she came towards them.

He shot a disbelieving look to both of his friends, whose smiles only broadened. He decided that his attention needed to go to Ellie, who had just about reached him. "Oh, Mr. Knighton, I heard about your family! Is everything all right?" she asked as she stopped in front of him.

In spite of his tiredness Raphael smiled. "Everything's all right, Ellie," he said reassuringly, beginning to walk forward and towing his suitcase along behind him. "I'm sorry I didn't call you earlier, but everything happened pretty quickly and I never got the chance to get in touch."

"It's quite all right. I understand entirely," she replied, falling into step beside him.

As Ellie smiled up at him, he debated for only a second before he said, "You don't have to call me Mister Knighton, you know."

"Really? I was worried that you wouldn't like me calling you by your first name—"

"It's fine. Just call me Raphael," he said warmly, earning another smile from Ellie.

This little scene had not gone unnoticed by his younger companions, however—and they had not quite forgiven Raphael for leaving them, despite the fact that their older friend had really no choice in the matter.

"Raph and Ellie sittin' in a tree," began Valon in a sing song voice, causing both Raphael and Ellie to turn around and stare at him with startled expressions.

"K-I-S-S-I-N-G," Alister continued, his gray eyes twinkling in amusement.

Raphael scowled at them. "Don't finish that," he muttered in exasperation, ignoring the heat that traveled to his face as his younger friends began to laugh.

He sighed before looking to Ellie, who had turned a delicate shade of pink. "If anyone asks, I don't know them," he deadpanned. The young woman giggled, her own eyes sparkling with good humor.

Raphael hesitated, turning his question over and over in his mind before he asked tentatively, "Are you doing anything tomorrow night, by any chance?"


	116. Hard Cider

_Sorry for the late update, guys! Things on my end are kinda hectic at the moment, so I've managed to squeeze some time into getting this up before returning to my bustling schedule. Anyways, I was watching a movie with my brother the other day and this bunny perked up; kudos to anyone who spots the movie reference in here!_

_Anyways, this one is post-DOOM and I hope you enjoy it!_

* * *

Raphael blinked when his cell phone began ringing and raised an eyebrow when he identified the caller. "Alister?"

_"Oh good. You answered. Question: how soon do you think you can get back?" _asked the redhead's voice in feigned cheerfulness. "_I think I need your help."_

There was a crash in the background, causing a slight frown to mar the burly man's features. "Alister, what was that?"

"_Would you believe me if I told you that it was Valon?"_

The older blonde sighed. "You know the answer to that as well as I do," he said, glancing at the clock sitting on his desk. It was just about time for him to clock out and go home anyway; he decided he could leave early, since Alister had actually called him (and if it was about Valon, there was a good reason for him to call). "What's happened now?"

Another loud crash came over the phone, followed by raucous laughter and a familiar voice announced in a slurred tone, "_Oopsies! Near'y broke tha' table, din't I?"_

Raphael, who had been packing up his bag and had risen halfway out of his chair, paused in disbelief when he recognized who was speaking. "No."

"_No what?"_

"…Alister, please tell me he's not drunk."

There was a pause and another crash. "_Would you like me to lie and say that he's sober?" _came the wry reply at last.

"All I want to know is just how he managed to get drunk again," replied Raphael wearily, already resigned to this latest bout of craziness. Honestly, Valon did not even seem to try to get in trouble anymore—trouble found him first.

"_That's the interesting part. Remember the apple cider that he picked up from the grocery store around Christmas because buying it gave him a discount for the frozen pizzas he was also buying?"_

"Yes. What about it?" asked Raphael distractedly as he rose up and out of his chair, leaving the small office space and already making a beeline to the stairwell. He had no doubts Valon would annoy Alister enough to warrant violence from the redhead; that chance was highly increased if the Australian made any comments about the slender man being a girl again.

"_Well, turns out that it magically turned into alcohol; I forgot that apple cider can ferment and turn into hard cider if left alone for a month or so. Guess who took a drink out of it?"_

"I didn't know that at all," said Raphael as he opened the door to the stairwell and began to rapidly descend. "If I had I would have gotten rid of it sooner."

_"My mom once told me that Dad used to make hard cider for parties. That's the only reason I know about it, though I wish I had remembered that sooner," _said Alister, and another crash sounded.

"So what's the damage report so far?" asked Raphael, inwardly wincing when he heard china shattering.

"_So far I've managed to keep him in the house. He started acting loopy the moment he drank one glass, but I didn't put two and two together until he'd had three more glasses of the stuff. Damage wise…I hope you don't mind a few books being thrown against the wall to ward off the evil sock monkeys of doom, sledding on the stairs using cookie pans, several dents in the wall, all the silverware scattered on the kitchen floor to trip up the Power Rangers, and five shattered plates that were used as Frisbees." _

When the sound of a plate breaking once again filtered over the phone, Alister sighed. "_Make it six."_

"Just keep him in the house, Alister. Don't let him outside and especially don't let him near his motorcycle," said Raphael exasperatedly as he walked out the front doors of the office building.

A very long and discomforting silence followed this statement. "_…What happens if he does end up outside?"_

Raphael reached his car and pulled his keys out from his pocket. "It's Valon, Alister. What do you think will happen?"

Another pause. "_Raphael, I think I'll have to call you back," _said Alister with an odd tone of voice.

"I'm going to regret asking this, but why?"

"_He's just found his motorcycle and has somehow procured a weed whacker, and now he's trying to drive his bike around the neighborhood. Believe me when I say that this will not end well."_

* * *

Valon grinned up at them cheekily, blue eyes glazed as he let out another hiccup. "Tha' w's fun, eh, fellas?" he asked drunkenly, an unnatural flush in his cheeks as he swayed where he sat.

Alister scowled at the boy where he was currently sitting on the sofa, holding an ice pack on his head. "Your definition of fun needs serious reevaluating," he said with a scowl, gingerly investigating the bump hidden beneath his hair with his fingertips.

Raphael sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. "At least be grateful that he didn't get out of the neighborhood. Then we would have had to chase him all over town," he said wearily.

When he had come back it had been to find Valon careening wildly on his motorcycle around the cul-de-sac, a weed whacker in hand; he had very nearly hit the teenager but at the last second had managed to stop in time, though this in turn had caused Valon to tumble off his bike.

The boy only had a few minor scrapes and bruises from the accident, but in the process of falling off the motorcycle Valon's grip on the weed whacker had loosened, causing the appliance to fly through the air and, unfortunately, hit Alister over the head.

The Australian hiccupped again, looking up at Raphael and Alister with a silly grin. "You blokes 're m'vin' reaaaaally funny," he said, tilting his head to examine them. "Like tha' big blue wet thingie… th' ocean, yeah. Tha's wha's called," he continued, moving his arms in a wave-like fashion.

Alister surveyed the younger man with a nameless expression before he turned on his heel and disappeared out of the room. Raphael watched him go with some confusion but returned his attention to Valon, who had tried to stand up off the sofa. "No you don't," he said firmly, putting a hand to the teen's shoulder and exerting enough pressure to force him back down. "You've caused enough trouble as it is."

Valon hiccupped again. "Tha' cider tast'd funny," he announced, glazed eyes confused. "I t'k a sip o' it 'n' th'n the worl' wen' all swirly."

He rolled his head around in emphasis to the last part of his sentence before bursting into a random fit of drunken laughter. Raphael could not help but be slightly amused, though for the most part he was keeping a wary eye on the boy to make sure he would not try anything else.

He looked up when Alister returned to the room, noting the small video camera the other man was carrying. "And what's that for?" he asked, wondering just when the red-haired biker had gained the camera.

"Getting blackmail material. What else?" asked Alister with an arched eyebrow. "You don't honestly think that I'm going to forgive him for nailing me with a weed whacker just because he's drunk, do you? Besides, I can use this later to get him to do house chores once he's sober—I don't think that he would like it if Shizuka found this."


	117. Going Under

_...Aahhhhh…well, my bunnies are weird._

_While looking over my oneshot, "Accidents Happen" my bunnies suddenly pounced on me and shoved this idea into my head…in my defense, they would not lay off until I wrote it down._

_Post DOOM, set during "Accidents Happen" (I recommend you read it if you have not yet, otherwise this may not make sense…although, really, you can read this and then "Accidents Happen" if you want) and leave reviews on your way out!_

* * *

Something had happened to him…that much was certain. He found that for the life of him he could not move, however, and he could barely open his eyes as he felt his body glide across the floor.

Mumbling and urgent sounding voices were echoing all around him, blurring together as a medley of sound. Flashes of white light in his vision whenever he managed to open his eyes and the sharp smell of antiseptic was all around him. Where was this all coming from? What happened to him?

The numbness was fading now, and then he realized that his body _hurt_ and he could hardly breathe; his chest felt like something was sitting on it and it was all he could do to catch his breath. His head was throbbing now as well, and he wished for the numbness to return. What had he done to get so badly hurt? If he was not much mistaken he was in a hospital…but why?

Faded images flashed through his mind, the details as fuzzy as an old black and white film, and he grasped onto them desperately in an attempt to piece together what had happened, to figure out why he could not move.

Work. Driving. Red light. Green light. Home. Red and silver in the corner of his eye. Then pain and he was moving and…and…then all was dark.

There was a new pain now, a sharp piercing pain in the top of his hand, and had he been able to move he would have flinched. He heard an odd rasping moan, realized it was him who had made the sound and that his breathing was ragged and uneven.

Far away voices began speaking now, their words jumbling together and jarringly loud, and that was when the weight on his eyes lifted and he managed to pry them open. Perhaps he could get answers if he managed to talk.

A figure enshrouded in shadow was leaning over him…who was it? Not either of his friends…he would have recognized their outlines. There was something transparent in the figure's hand, an odd hissing noise coming from it, and then it was over his mouth and nose and suddenly he could smell something sickly sweet. Alarmed, he tried to move, but now he was losing his grip on consciousness again.

"You'll be all right. Take it easy—we won't let anything happen to you. Just relax and let us help."

And then suddenly his mind managed to put a word to the substance, labeling it as _anesthesia_ before beginning to succumb to the drug. Despite all of his inward protests, he felt himself go under and his world faded to black.

* * *

_…Owww…_

Raphael was not sure when he had regained the feeling in his body, but he had and oh did it hurt. It was actually the pain that had pulled him out of the numb darkness he had slipped into earlier, and now he simply lay still as he tried to garner enough energy to open his eyes and figure out what was going on around him now. He vaguely remembered waking up earlier and realizing he was in a hospital, but the events from that time were blurred and he could not tell if he had been dreaming or not.

His chest hurt and when he breathed it ached a little more, so he made a mental note to be careful about speaking or doing anything that would aggravate this problem. He also noted the odd, discomforting pinch in the top of one of his hands and he mentally grimaced—that would be an IV line. Raphael would have to be doubly careful not to move suddenly.

He remained motionless for an indeterminate amount of time, trying to get his bearings without opening his eyes; at times he very nearly went back to sleep. Raphael could not tell very much about the room he was in (probably the generic hospital room, complete with surfer-smile-white painted walls that were liable to blind someone), but as he shifted his legs experimentally he felt material brush against his calf that was not a bed sheet and he relaxed. Good—no hospital gown. That was a blessing, at least.

He managed to open his eyes at last, blinking back the fog in his vision before gingerly turning his head; moving it too fast would likely cause his vision to blur and he would rather not inflict more pain on his body. Thankfully, the blinds were drawn and the room was dimly lit. Another small blessing.

His eyes wandered the room, noticing something in the periphery of his vision at the same time he registered a moderate weight on the left side of his body. Raphael frowned at that, deciding to investigate what he could immediately see first and turning his head fully to the right.

It was a welcome sight when he recognized Alister sitting in the chair next to the bed, his chin resting uncomfortably on his chest; the slender man did not seem to mind the discomfort of his current position, most likely exhausted from the night before (and he had no doubt that his younger friends had not slept in the slightest—those shadows under Alister's eyes were a testimony to that). He noted the scrapes visible on the man's bare waist, frowning at them; he would need to get an explanation later.

If Alister was here, Raphael reasoned, that meant that Valon could not be far away. A sudden hunch made him look back to the left and his gaze landed on the Australian teenager using the mattress as a pillow; other than being asleep, the boy seemed to have nothing the matter with him.

The tension eased from his shoulders. Apart from looking exhausted they both looked no worse for the wear; now if he could only figure out just what had happened to—

"Mr. Knighton?"

He looked up as the nurse slipped through the doorway; she had kept her voice down to accommodate the sleeping young men in the room (for which he immediately was put at ease—he would let them sleep for as long as he could), a clipboard in hand. "Good. You're awake," she said cheerfully but softly. "How are you?"

"…Sore," he said, wincing at how raspy his voice was and at the twinge that went through his chest.

"If you would like, I can come back with something to help you with that pain. Any tingling or abnormal numbness?" she asked, cautiously stepping around Alister to move to his bedside.

"No," Raphael replied, eyeing the redhead when he shifted and mumbled something unintelligible. He looked back to the nurse with a small frown. "Ma'am, how did I get here?"

The nurse stared him with concern before her eyes lit in comprehension. "Oh that's right. You were only semi-conscious when you were brought here," she said, half to herself. She looked back at Raphael and said, "You were in a rather severe car accident—a man ran a red light and wasn't paying attention to the road. He hit your car and you were brought here afterward; your lung had partially collapsed, not to mention you cracked two of your ribs and fractured two others. We had originally thought you'd broken four ribs, but then we found that it wasn't quite the case."

"Is the other driver all right?" he asked, concerned.

"Oh yes, he's all right. Shaken up badly, but he's no worse for the wear," said the nurse conversationally as she checked his pulse. She wrote something down on her clipboard and looked back up at him. "Do you want to watch a little TV or would you rather read?"

Raphael debated. While he would rather not read the magazines in here (outdated and usually chock full of gossip he did not care for), the television would wake Alister up almost instantly—he may have slept through the nurse's entrance, but he knew it would be too much to ask to turn on the television. "I'll read."

The woman brightened, reaching over to pick up a small pile of magazines (Raphael winced when he saw the _Seventeen_ magazine sitting on the very top of the stack) and gently placed it within his reach. "If you need anything, just push the call button and we'll get to you as soon as we can," she said, tiptoeing around Alister to slip out the door.

Raphael checked once again to make certain that his younger friends were asleep before reaching for a magazine. He pointedly shifted the _Seventeen_ magazine to the bottom of the pile as he picked up another one. Raphael made one last check to ensure that his younger friends were still sleeping before beginning to read; he'd been the reason they had stayed up so late, so he would let them sleep in as long as he could.

…Five minutes later, however, he was sorely tempted to wake Alister and Valon up. These magazines were _boring_.


	118. Lazy Afternoons and Glitter

_Present for Crime Scene Fairy!_

_This was partially based on an idea that CSF had a long time ago, but my bunnies only recently jumped on it and said, "AH HA! WRITE ME!" I hope you like it, CSF!_

_This one is set post-DOOM and I hope everyone likes it!_

* * *

"Are you doing anything pressing at the moment?" asked Alister bluntly, leaning in the doorway of Valon's bedroom.

Valon, who had been trying to unsuccessfully retrieve a sock from Misa (the cat, they had discovered, loved to steal socks and would do so the moment the opportunity presented itself), let out a muffled yelp and the bed shook; clearly, the Australian had jumped out of surprise. The boy crawled out from under the bed and scowled up at the older man with a glare, no doubt annoyed that Alister had "snuck up" on him again. "B'sides gettin' my sock back from ol' Klepto-Kitty there?" he asked, gesturing to where the cat was hiding under the bed.

"Yes, I'm sure that somewhere in an alternate universe that's what helps save the world. However, what I'm asking is if you plan on going out later today," said Alister boredly, adjusting the long sleeve of the blue shirt he was wearing so that it covered his wrist again.

"Nope. Marik's 'elpin' 'is sister out at the museum 'n' Shizuka's sick," said Valon, giving up on Misa and flopping on his bed, looking up at Alister. "I've got the afternoon t' m'self."

"Good. You're coming with me, then," announced the redhead, ignoring Valon's surprised look. "I'm heading over to the family center today and you're coming with."

"Why?"

"One of the nursery workers got sick and they're short on hands. They don't have anyone else to fill in, so I volunteered you. I hope you don't mind," replied Alister with a lazy shrug.

"Wait…nursery? 'old it, Alister. Babies 'n' I don' mix," said Valon hastily. "They're too…little. 'n' whenever they cry—"

Alister snorted. "Please. As if I would let you anywhere near a baby," he said. "No offense to you, but if I take you with you're not going to be playing with the babies; besides, there's only one that we're dealing with today. You'd be keeping the older kids occupied."

"'ow old are they 'n' 'ow many are in there?" Valon asked, spotting Misa as she tried to sneak out from under his bed with his sock. He reached down and managed to grab the cat before she could escape, though she did not seem put out that she had been caught; she purred contentedly as Valon reclaimed his lost sock.

"There can be up to about fifteen kids in the daycare, and all are usually under the age of seven."

"Terrific," muttered Valon. "Wha' if I say I don' wanna go?" he continued challengingly, rolling off the bed and onto his feet. He placed his hands on his hips and glared at Alister.

The redhead shot him an extremely unconcerned glance. "Then I'll call Raphael at work to try and fill in instead of you, despite the fact that this afternoon he's planning on keeping Ellie company; you and I both know he'd stop whatever he was doing to help out," said Alister blithely.

Valon scowled. "All righ', fine. Don' interrupt Raph on his date—I'll go," he grumbled. "But 'm not changin' any diapers!"

The red-haired man looked at the teen in amusement. "You do know you'll get bonus points in Shizuka's book if you tell her that you helped me look after a whole bunch of children," he said pointedly, watching Valon's expression brighten and inwardly smirking with triumph. _Victory is mine._

* * *

"You talk funny, mister," giggled a brown haired little girl as she hung onto Valon's hand, trying to dangle off the ground. He believed her name was Jessie, though there were two other girls with brown hair in the room and it was hard keeping track of them; Alister must have eyes in the back of his head, since he was able to keep most of the twelve children in the room under control.

"'n' wha' 'bout you?" retorted Valon, managing to keep his balance as another girl grabbed onto his leg. "You can' even pronounce 'macaroni' and you think I talk funny?"

This only served to make Jessie laugh even more; this particular child and her friends had earlier upended a container of glitter over his head earlier, meaning that he now had the substance evenly coated in his hair and on the upper half of his clothes. He didn't mind it, though—as long as it didn't get in his eyes he was happy. Playing with these kids was entertaining.

The mess was not limited to just his head and shoulders, though. One of the younger boys had accidentally spilled his carton of milk onto Valon's lap at snack time, and before that had happened two seven year old boys had gotten into a paint fight; Valon was covered in red and blue paint, and though he'd washed it off his arms and face there was no way to get it off his shirt or pants unless he stuck it in the washing machine at home.

Valon winced as he felt another tug on his hair from the slightly fussy baby he was carrying. "Mate, 'ow do you do this every time? These tykes 're tryin' t' kill me."

Alister raised an eyebrow playfully, allowing one brunette haired girl to clamber onto his back (oh yeah, that one was Lily—that definitely made the one clinging to his arm Jessie). "Easily," he said as the child adjusted her grip. "You must learn, young grasshopper, that kids love to play with unusual things. Your hair falls into this category, Mister Jack in the Box—though you're weird enough without the glitter."

"Ha ha ha," retorted the Australian sarcastically, letting out a startled gasp when the baby he was holding yanked too hard on his hair. He tilted his head to accommodate the baby when the child continued to pull on his hair, looking over at his older friend anxiously. "But still, you said I on'y 'ad t' 'old this baby f'r a couple o' minutes and 'm gonna go bald if 'e keeps up with this. 'elp," he whined.

Alister shook his head, though his exasperated gaze lacked any of the usual ire it normally held when dealing with Valon; the effect of being surrounded by children certainly had a calming effect on the older man. He crossed the room to where the teenager was, a bounce in his step to accommodate the girl clinging to his back. "C'mere, munchkin," he said cheerfully, taking the small baby from the other biker with a smile. "Valon's hair may be entertaining, but it makes for a bad toy."

Valon grimaced as he lifted a hand into his hair to make sure that there was no blood; that baby had to have been pulling hard enough to possibly take a piece out of his scalp. He readjusted his goggles atop his bangs with his free hand, grinning nonetheless as he watched Alister expertly bounce the now laughing baby on his hip and keep the girl on his back.

The redhead's shift in personality was almost stunning. The moment he had stepped into the room he had lost his distant nature to trade it for a much more open and friendlier persona; though there was still an aloof quality to him, Alister was much less reluctant to be visibly happy when interacting with his small charges.

…To be honest, it was a bit disconcerting to see Alister smiling so much.

He looked back down to Jessie, who had thrown all of her body weight on his hand in an attempt to pull him down. "All righ', now wha' are you doin'?" he asked curiously.

Jessie giggled. "I wants your goggles," she said mischievously, trying to jump for his head.

"Sorry, sweet'eart. These are mine," he replied brightly, standing upright again and gesturing to the goggles perched on the top of his head.

The girl smiled at him sweetly. "I wants them," she repeated, and Valon was distinctly uneasy when a couple other children filed in behind her; the group now numbered about five. "P'ease, Mister Valon?"

"Nope," said Valon, freeing his foot from the other girl that was holding onto it. "Sorry, love."

A boy with tousled black hair (he thought his name was Tommy, but he could be wrong) grinned at him wickedly, and suddenly the Australian realized what he was planning to do. "Get him!" he cried before lunging at the older teen.

Valon dodged the lunge and turned, fleeing the small crowd of children chasing after him; in a matter of minutes, ten of the twelve kids were in pursuit. "Alister, save me!" he half laughed, half cried as he leapt over a small table; the children did not let this deter them, instead running around it. "They're tryin' t' kill me!"

Alister very calmly sidestepped the running teenager and moved to a corner of the room, just out of the way of the chase. "You're on your own, Valon. I can't babysit you and these kids," he called, amused as he readjusted his grip on the baby. "Just be sure not to get anyone hurt."

"Thank you f'r your 'elp!" retorted Valon sarcastically as he passed Alister's corner again, yelping as he nearly ran over a three year old girl but managing to avoid her at the last second.

Inwardly, though, Valon was enjoying the chase. This was probably the best way to spend a lazy afternoon—though he would not do this too often, he decided as the children finally managed to tackle him and brought him to the floor. His poor goggles wouldn't survive another glitter attack.


	119. Belated Birthday Gift

_OMG I'M SORRY THIS IS LATE._

_FanFiction was being a pain; for some reason, I can't upload anything. I've managed to update this story and had this halfway written over spring break, but I haven't really had a chance to sit down at a computer until now. _

_On a random note, keep one of my professors in your prayers; he's one of my favorites. He lost his twin brother over spring break and...well, it's kinda rough._

_Post-DOOM and a happy (25th—OMG HE'S THAT OLD?) birthday to Raphael!_

* * *

"No."

"But—"

"NO."

"…Please?"

"Is there some part of your vocabulary that interprets no to mean yes?"

"Aren' you even remotely curious about wha's in tha' package?"

"Yes. But am I going to open up mail that is obviously not mine? No."

"We can pop it open, look and see wha' it is, and then tape it back up! 'e'd be none the wiser! If nothin' else, we can open up tha' envelope on the front and then tape it together again!"

"Right, because he wouldn't notice the ripped cardboard and the ripped apart envelope. It's not our business; he'll no doubt tell us what's in there when he gets back."

"…I'm still gonna open it."

"You do realize that it's a felony to open other people's mail, right?"

Valon grinned cheekily at the red-haired biker. "Tha's on'y if Raph prosecutes me, 'n' we both know 'ow likely tha' is," he replied, reaching for the brown paper package sitting on the table.

Alister moved it with his foot in the opposite direction of Valon's hand. "Still, in polite society we respect our friend's wishes and leave their mail alone."

"Raph never said anythin' 'bout 'is mail b'fore!" retorted the brunette indignantly. "You're jus' a spoil sport."

"For all we know it could be something he ordered off the internet," replied Alister evenly, pulling the package onto his lap; he knew Valon would not dare risk coming too close to him. "Let it alone."

Sure enough, the teenager's shoulders slumped when he noticed where his older friend had moved it. His eyes, however, filled with exasperation seconds later. "But seriously, mate. It's from England. ENGLAND. Who does 'e know tha' lives there?"

"Gee, it couldn't be possible that he has family in England," remarked Alister sarcastically.

A look of comprehension dawned on Valon's face. "Oh yeah…I f'rgot 'bout 'is grandpa," he said slowly, before a determined light entered his eyes. "Well now 'm definitely gonna open it up."

The redhead sighed, glancing at a nearby clock before moving the box to his side, out of reach of the teenager's grabbing hands. "Not happening," he said wearily. The rectangular and somewhat heavy package had shown up on their doorstep three hours ago, and ever since then Alister had been keeping it away from Valon; he was not certain how much more he was willing to put up with, since the Australian had been at this ever since he had seen the package come in.

Valon folded his arms and scowled. "Wha' if it's somethin' tha's gonna make Raph leave again?" he demanded then, his eyes flickering with unease at the thought. "I don' want 'im t' 'ave t' go away like last time!"

The red-haired man said nothing, although a similar thought had occurred to him initially when he had seen the package. "I don't think that's likely, Valon," he said at last, catching the boy's attention. "If it's from England, it's likely from his grandfather and if it was something serious he would have called; the one we need to worry about is his uncle."

"…Still, wha' would his grandfather want t' give Raph?"

"We'll find that out when he comes back from work—which should be in a matter of seconds. I just heard the garage door go up," said Alister in a matter-of-fact tone, noticing that Misa's head had lifted up from her curled up position and had leapt down lightly from her position on the head of the armchair to greet the eldest biker at the door.

Sure enough, the sound of the garage door filtered in from the hallway and Valon immediately leapt over the back of the sofa. "Oy, Raph! You've got somethin' in the mail 'n' it's a box 'n' we dunno wha' it is 'n' you need t' open it!" he called, disappearing from view. A few seconds later he reappeared in the doorway, dragging Raphael bodily into the room behind him.

The older blonde raised an eyebrow in inquiry at Alister. "I take it there's something in the mail for me?" he asked wryly, gesturing to an impatient-looking Valon.

The other man nodded. "He's been dying to look at this since it came in this afternoon," he replied, lifting the somewhat heavy package and handing it to his older friend. "I was debating on beating him back with something blunt and heavy—possibly a brick."

"Good thing I came back then," Raphael said with barely discernible amusement, looking down at the package and frowning at the return address. "This is from England?" he continued, sitting in the armchair.

"Our reaction exactly."

Raphael eyed it with a furrowed brow before removing the envelope that had been carefully taped to the front of the package, opening it carefully and reading what was inside the card with a slightly confused expression; it was replaced seconds later by a surprised one. "It's from my grandfather," he said, clearly startled.

"Wha's it say?" asked Valon impatiently.

"He says happy birthday and that inside the package is something he found while rearranging things in his bookshelf," said Raphael slowly as he continued reading the card. "He also says that what's inside best belongs to me, so he sent it over; it looks like he sent this right before I went to France, since he stuck an apology in here for it possibly being late."

Raphael frowned and then flipped it over, searching for any further explanation. "There's nothing else besides his signature…I've got no idea what's in here," he said, a baffled look appearing on his face.

After a moment of contemplating the card, the blonde pulled on the tab and gingerly opened the box, sliding out something wrapped in bubble paper and tissue paper and placing it on top of the now empty package. He lifted away the tissue paper to investigate the object resting on the cardboard box and dropped the paper on the floor. But when he saw what had been wrapped inside it he froze, staring at the object with wide eyes.

"Raph? Wha' is it?" asked Valon, coming to the armchair and looking over the burly man's shoulder.

Alister lifted his head just enough to peer over the pile of tissue paper and saw what was sitting in the tissue paper. "A photo album?" he inquired, looking over at the suddenly blank expression on the older blonde's face.

"It's more than that," said Raphael in an odd voice, running his hand gently on the ivory and gold-stamped leather surface. He said nothing for a long moment, apparently lost in a memory; his eyes had softened entirely as he rested his hand on the top of the book.

"This is my family's picture album," he said, staring down at the leather bound album. "I thought it had gotten lost when my uncle auctioned off my home after the shipwreck, but my grandfather must have held onto it," he finished quietly, speaking more to himself than to anyone else.

He lifted the cover of the album up and to the first page, his facial features softening even further when they landed on the first photograph. His hand traced the page idly, a faraway look entering his eyes as he looked down at the picture—it was clear he was no longer paying any attention to the present.

Alister rose to his feet and padded quietly to the other side of the chair to look down at the open album. "So those are your parents," he mused as his eyes landed on a wedding photo, breaking the silence at last.

"Ya look kinda like your dad," said Valon thoughtfully, tilting his head before resting his hands on the back of the armchair and setting his chin on them. "'n' your mum's righ' pretty, too…"

A second later, his head shot up and a wicked grin split his features. "You reckon there's baby pictures in there?" he asked, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

At the incredulous stare shot to him by Alister, the teenager threw his hands up and a defensive scowl appeared on his face. "What? It'd be fun t' see a baby Raph, is all! Wha's so 'ard t' unnerstan' about that?"

Raphael looked up at the boy, startled back into the present by the Australian's comment. "There probably are a couple of them, knowing my mother," he said, his surprise replaced with a reminiscent smile. "She took pictures of everything when I was younger and—oh no you don't. I know _exactly _where this is going."

"Where wha' is goin'?" asked Valon innocently. "Oh, y'mean take one o' your baby pictures 'n' show it t' Ellie? Who said I was gonna do tha'?" he asked with faked confusion, laughing when Raphael flushed.

"You better not," grumbled the blonde under his breath, though the retort was made in good humor. He flipped over to the next page in the album carefully; the smiling faces of his parents at some nameless party greeted him and he relaxed. It had been a long time since he had seen these photos, and he fully intended to look through them all.

…Well, he would, provided that Alister and Valon did not see his baby pictures. He'd never hear the end of it if they did.


	120. A Hypothetical Question

_Request for my unofficial (yes, dearie, you're unofficial because I don't ever use your beta profile to send my stuff to) beta!_

_She gave me a plot bunny to work with and after a bit of musing I came up with this; she's been begging me for ages to write this one, so I finally decided to humor her. Plus, I'm sticking this up before I find out that I'm unable to again. The error is still somewhat unresolved DX_

_Post-DOOM and don't forget to leave reviews on your way out!_

* * *

"Alister, I 'ave a 'ypothetical question."

The red-haired man did not look up from doing the dishes. "I fear those kind of questions most, especially coming from you," he said. "All right, I'll bite. What do you want?"

"Well, uh, see, I was watchin' this movie with Shizuka the other day, right? 'N' the guy 'ad this wicked lookin' tattoo on 'im, so I started thinkin' t' myself wha' I'd look like with it 'n'…well…"

Alister decided that he did not like the direction this conversation had taken. "Valon, what did you do?"

The brunette sighed heavily, hesitating for a moment before he said, "Wha' would you say if I got a tattoo?"

A very long pause followed this announcement. "Tell me that the reason you disappeared this afternoon was not so you could get a tattoo based on something you saw from a movie."

"Well…I kinda…yeah."

The redhead thought about this concept for a moment, still refusing to turn around. Maybe if he thought really hard then the other biker would disappear and take this latest round of Valon-based stupidity with him. "At least it's a small one?" he asked in a resigned voice.

"Uhhhh, well…define small, chum."

Alister turned fully around at that, a partially dry plate in his hand as he stared at the Australian teenager; the boy was grinning sheepishly at him and had a hand on the back of his head, which (unfortunately) were recognizable signs that Valon tended to exhibit after one of his usual lapses in judgment.

Plainer than day, though, was the dark and bold lines of the tattoo on the boy's right shoulder.

Alister set the plate down and moved closer to Valon, inspecting the lines of black ink that stretched from his shoulder and almost down to his elbow; the other young man was wearing a sleeveless shirt, which allowed Alister to see the tattoo fully (he suspected Valon had been wearing a jacket earlier, since it was still a little chilly). It comprised of mostly lines, but one only had to look at it for a second before realizing they were looking at a dragon; it had been done in what Alister knew was called a tribal style.

"You do realize this isn't going to come off, right?" he said at last, raising his gray eyes to meet with Valon's cerulean ones after giving the tattoo an experimental poke. "This isn't something you simply can wipe off or scrub it off with soap when you get bored of it."

"Gee, Alister, I 'adn' thought of that at all," retorted Valon, feigning a surprised expression. "I thought it would come out in the wash. O' _course_ I know it isn' gonna come off, mate! 'm not tha' stupid!"

"It's protocol that I ask you anyways, because usually you don't think these things through. Why a dragon, though? I would have guessed that you would have gone with something different; Jounouchi would have gone with a dragon."

"B'cause it looks awesome!" said Valon firmly, looking down at his shoulder with a grin. "'N' besides, I beat Jounouchi to it. 'e's gonna get ticked."

The redhead sighed, resisting the urge to smack his forehead. "There are better ways to catch attention, you know, and even more creative ways to beat Jounouchi at something."

"Yeah, but you and Raph didn' like the earring idea at all!"

"That's because we know you and your insanely bad luck. You'd find a way to get your ear amputated. Besides, you're eighteen. You're free to do whatever stupid things you want and be as immature as you like."

"Aww, thanks, mate," said Valon brightly, before he registered the rest of the statement and gave his older friend an indignant scowl. "Now tha's jus' plain not nice."

A thoughtful frown entered his features then, replacing the scowl entirely. "Wonder wha' Raph's gonna do when 'e sees this?" he asked musingly, putting a hand on his chin.

The slender man raised an eyebrow as he scooped Misa up with a free hand, going into the kitchen after placing her on his shoulder; the cat had been rubbing against his legs for about ten minutes and he suspected that the reason behind it was because her food bowl was empty. He already had a feeling as to what Raphael's reaction would be in regards to this latest bout of insanity from the Australian.

* * *

True to Alister's suspicions, the blonde man's reaction to the tattoo was oddly anti-climatic. After he got home from work and walked in through the front door, he merely took one look at the black dragon prominent on the boy's exposed shoulder before he continued on his way to the kitchen, shaking his head as he went.

Valon stared after the older man with confusion. "Does tha' mean 'e doesn' mind it or tha' 'e' disapproves?" he asked, looking to the other biker for an explanation.

"Well, what were you expecting him to do? Yell in horror before having his head do a three-sixty and then explode?"retorted Alister in annoyance. "He's too used to your crazy antics…nix that. He's too used to _you_."

The Australian stared in disbelief before he growled. "Aw crud," he muttered, reaching for his jacket and heading for the front door. "Great. Just great," he continued, his hand on the doorknob.

"Where are you going?"

"Out."

"Hmm. Let me guess. You're going to go to whoever you made that bet with to pony up the cash, since I didn't spaz out and neither did Raphael. Then you're going to go remove that fake tattoo."

Valon jumped, looking back over his shoulder at Alister in surprise. "Wha' do you mean by that? This 'ere's a real tat," he said in an affronted voice, though his eyes did not quite meet Alister's.

The red-haired biker raised one of his eyebrows at him before walking over to him, lightly smacking the tattoo with a flat hand. "Real, huh? News flash, genius: if this was a genuine tattoo, you'd be rolling on the floor in agony," he said sardonically. "Nice try, though."

The brunette stared. "'ow long 'ave you known tha' this was fake 'n' 'ow did you know there was a bet goin'?"

"I know you too well. You wouldn't pick a dragon for a tattoo—too many people would compare you to Jounouchi. That means someone else chose that design and put it there," came the amused reply. "Now, if I'm not much mistaken you owe someone some money. Go pay up."

Shortly after the teenager left (scowling and muttering the whole way) Raphael came out into the doorway of the family room, a confused frown on his face. "Be honest, now. How did you know that Valon made a bet with someone?" he asked, having overheard the exchange from where he was in the kitchen.

"Easy—I overheard him talking on the phone with someone earlier this morning; I'm assuming it was Jounouchi, but I could be wrong," replied Alister with a careless shrug. "It's not exactly a secret bet if you know it's coming."

* * *

_BTW, kudos to anyone who guesses just who made the bet with Valon. The winner(s) will get a request :D_


	121. Stuck

_Ha ha. I got a lot of reviews going, "It was Marik!" on the previous chapter. Sorry, guys, but Marik was NOT the culprit; actually, it was Honda._

_…*cue baffled expressions, followed by a "Huh?"*_

_Yeahhhh, I kinda goofed on the hints; I'm pretty sure no one thought it was Honda, though I would have thought the reference to Jounouchi would have been an indicator. Don't feel bad, though—to make up for it, there's going to be another character reference (not in this update, but the next one) up for grabs. _

_This particular chapter is set during DOOM, and the location is in Florence, Italy; my bunnies remembered something that happened to me a long while ago and decided to relive it. I hope you like it! For followers having trouble with updating fics, check out my profile._

* * *

"You want me t' go in _there_?" Valon asked in horror, blue eyes widening as he stared into the train compartment. His grip on the rucksack tightened. "Mate, there's barely enough room t' move my elbows, 'n' you're expectin' _all of us_ and our gear to fit in there? 'eck, Raph probably's gonna take up 'alf the space! I'm not goin' in there. No way no 'ow, nuh uh, nope, not on your life."

Gurimo scowled. "Boy, I have no time for your arguments. Get in there."

The teenager looked up at him. "I thought the hallways were bad enough, but tha's a tiny li'l room 'n'—"

The monocled man's scowl deepened before he shoved the boy into the compartment, moving in behind him and blocking the door to prevent Valon from escaping; the stupid punk was holding up the passengers behind him and drawing attention to them, which was something he did not want.

He kept an eye out for both Raphael and Alister from the doorway to the compartment as the other passengers of the train passed by in the narrow hallways. The two of them had gone to make certain that their motorcycles had gotten stowed away properly and should have been here by now—there really was no excuse for them being twenty minutes late. The train was about to leave, and he did not want to have to spend the night in Florence because of those two idiots.

"C'mon, Kuriboh, we c'n just drive t' the nearest airport 'n'—"

"The overnight train is the fastest and cheapest way into Paris, boy, and time is of the essence. Our flight leaves there in the morning, so unless you wanted to try and drive into Paris from here I suggest you shut up," retorted Gurimo with a snarl.

"Anything better than takin' a tiny li'l train t' Paris to catch our flight," Valon replied testily, clearly unhappy about where he was.

Gurimo ignored him, continuing to scan the halls for any sign of the other two bikers. Where were they? They were so much better at keeping control of this hooligan! He growled when he noticed the last of the passengers enter their compartments and he reluctantly shut the door; hopefully the other two were on the train.

As an afterthought, he tossed his duffel toward Valon, half-hoping to knock the Australian out. Much to his chagrin, however, the teenager caught it and then set it on the floor to use as a footstool before sullenly looking out the window.

"They made it on, din't they?" Valon asked, his voice worried.

Gurimo sniffed. "If they didn't that is their business. They'll find a way back on their own," he replied, yanking his bag out from under Valon's feet.

"But Master Dartz said tha' you 'ad t' keep an eye on all of us, right? 'e's gonna be ticked if we left 'em."

The monocled man snorted and lifted his chin haughtily. "Oh please, boy. Eventually I will not be leading your little group—thank heaven—so learning how to get around will be up to them."

Valon glared at the older man indignantly. "'N' wha' if they got arrested?"

"Master Dartz will deal with them then if that is the case. It surely is not my fault that they fell behind, and to preserve the secrecy of DOOM sacrifices must be made," Gurimo said dismissively, though Valon swore there was an almost pleased expression on his face at the idea.

Stupid git. He'd get what was coming to him one day.

* * *

As it turned out Raphael and Alister had made it onto the train ten minutes ago, though they had very nearly missed it because they had been checking on the motorcycles. However, they were stuck where they were because of an interesting predicament that had presented itself when they got into the train car—and I mean they were literally _stuck._

"You're kidding, right?" asked Alister with barely concealed amusement, eyeing his taller companion where he was standing uncomfortably in the hall.

Raphael glared at him, visibly annoyed. He could not move either of his arms at all, in spite of his best efforts; he had made the mistake of going down the narrow hallway fully facing forward, rather than turning to the side. As a result, his broad shoulders had gotten wedged between a window and a compartment door. "Oh yeah, I'm just doing this because it's fun," he retorted, trying to move but failing. "I can do this all day."

Alister looked as if he wanted to burst into laughter any minute, but he was likely holding back for his older friend's sake. "At least you didn't have on your duster; that would have made this situation worse. Can you turn at all? If you go sideways you might be able to squeeze on by," he said, eyeing the man's trapped shoulders critically.

"Believe me, I would do just that if I was able to," came the irritated reply. Raphael tried again to get himself free but shook his head, giving up moments later. "Alister, I genuinely can't move."

"You're going to have to, though. Someone trying to come through here is going to be annoyed by the road block they encounter. Maybe we should set up a detour sign somewhere so that no one tries to come through here."

"Oh ha ha. Laugh it up, Alister," grumbled Raphael, trying to get himself dislodged and feeling slightly pleased that he could at least marginally shift his left arm. "Next time, I'll just take my chances driving."

It was not until Valon actually bumped into them twenty minutes later on his way to the food car and helped out that Raphael was able to get free, and the three of them managed to get back to their cabin without further incident.

At least until Raphael got stuck in the door to the cabin.

* * *

_By the way, the train they are on is the one that leaves from Florence Campo di Marte; it's an overnight train that takes you to Paris-Bercy and it is a fairly convenient and cheap way to travel from Italy to France. However, the hallways are just as small and narrow as I'm describing—no fooling. Someone Raphael's height and build could get stuck easily (and in fact someone did, when I was on the train)._


	122. Pointless Arguments

_All righty folks! Here's your chance to redeem yourselves for the character challenge. Guess who the speakers are and you win a request! Keep in mind, though, that I will only award the requests to the first _**three**_ people who guess it correctly; you have to get all three speakers correct, not just one of them. Also, no cheating and looking at the other reviews for this chapter. _

_Good luck to you all! _

* * *

"Do you mind explaining to me why you've decided to steal my gloves?"

"_Your _gloves? Oh please—I had those long before you even knew they existed."

"And why would that be? I distinctly recall that I found these in the discount section of a _woman's _fashion boutique. Are you finally admitting your true gender at last?"

"That depends greatly on who you want to call a woman. If you are referring to me—and I sincerely hope you aren't—then perhaps you need to go have your eyes checked."

"Then explain to me where you got the gloves."

"From a generic unnamed store whose identity I won't divulge. "

"That's lingo for, 'I really did buy these at a woman's boutique.'"

"If you want to believe that, go for it; I have the receipt for the generic unnamed store that specifically says they're men's gloves. Speaking of which, these are mine and I want them back, so I'm not going to fork them over."

"I believe it's the other way around, hotshot. I am warning you that I will personally see to it life gets miserable for you if you don't give me back what you stole."

A scornful laugh. "It already is miserable, and you're not making things any better. Looking at you, though, makes me feel slightly better inside—I'm not as bad off as I thought I was."

"Enough with the jokes. Give me back my gloves, you sorry excuse of a man."

"…Now I'm definitely ignoring you. I was debating on returning them, but now I'm going to pretend you don't exist."

An irritated growl. "Give me. The gloves. _NOW."_

"Ooh, you're gritting your teeth now? Definitely a sign of impending doom. Maybe I should take heed…nah. That would be too easy."

"You're not funny, you know."

"Not trying to be."

"I really don't have time for this."

"Why don't you go without them?"

"Because my hands end up chapped at the end of the day from driving a motorcycle, and those gloves help them look less like a desert and more like a pair of hands."

"What a coincidence. That's why I wear gloves, and that's why I'm keeping them. Go bug someone else for a new pair."

An annoyed silence fell and lasted for several minutes before it was broken again. "Why haven't you left yet?"

"You have something that belongs to me, that's why!"

"I've already told you I'm not giving them back. They're _mine. _Go bother someone else with your useless blithering."

"At this hour? No way. Not until you return what you stole!"

"You noticed what time it is? Good for you, you know how to read a clock. Look, I already told you that I didn't steal them from you. They are my gloves. I have the receipt to prove it."

"I don't see your name on them."

"Right back at you, sweetheart."

At that point, a door down the hall opened up and a third voice entered the conversation. "I don't care if those gloves belonged to Santa Claus. You've both been at this for nearly seven hours and it's almost two in the morning—quit your pointless arguing and _go to sleep_," it growled in sleepy irritation, nearly slamming the door shut.

There was another long silence, broken only by the sound of two pairs of footsteps as they moved away from the door and further down the hallway to avoid causing any more trouble.

"Give them back."

"Oh come _on_, already. I've already told you that I'm not going to return something that's mine, especially since I know that they're not yours."

"I don't care what it takes, but before I go to bed you're going to give my gloves back!"

"How many times do I have to tell you? They. Are not. Your gloves."

"Yes they are!"

"You do realize you're fighting tooth and nail for a pair of gloves you can buy later, right?"

"Says you. You're arguing just as much as I am."

"One, you started this little argument. Two, I'm not going to give back something that's mine. Three, if it bothers you so much just buy a new pair."

"And when do you see me going shopping any time in the near future? We're on an island, genius."

"Really? You don't say," came the sarcastic reply. "I had no idea where we were. You're smarter than you look."

The door down the hall opened once again. "If I have to tell you two to drop this pointless argument and go to bed again you WILL suffer the consequences!" it nearly roared in frustration. "Now drop the gloves on the floor and leave!"

Hurried footsteps carried the two arguing people out of the earshot and eyesight of the third person, who stalked irritably out of the depths of their bedroom and snatched up the fallen gloves. "Of all the stupid things to argue over, they choose to do so at two in the morning over a pair of gloves," muttered the annoyed voice as its owner disappeared into the depths of their room and shut the door once again.

Which was fortunate, because just out of earshot the argument had resumed and continued on for the remainder of the early hours of the morning.

* * *

_Good luck figuring out the speakers! Remember, the first three reviewers to guess it correctly will win a request, and you must list the names of _all three _speakers correctly to win (it doesn't matter if they are in order or not)._


	123. An Unconventional April Fool's

_Wait wait wait WAIT. How did I miss April Fool's Day?_

_…I'm sorry._

_There's no challenge in this update, but there will be fairly soon; in the mean time, congrats to _Crime Scene Fairy _and _PurpleWildcat2010 _for correctly guessing who the three speakers were. You both have won requests, and as soon as I'm able I will begin work on them._

_This one is set during DOOM and I hope you enjoy it!_

* * *

"Have you seen Valon?"

The question was spoken with a slightly apprehensive voice and it made Alister look up from the book he had been reading. Raphael was standing in the doorway of his bedroom room, a frown marring his features.

"Do I look like a zookeeper to you?" Alister retorted, returning to his book. "Maybe you should check his lair—oops, I meant his room."

There was an annoyed sigh. "I'm not asking if you're babysitting him or not. I'm asking if you've seen him; I can't find him anywhere, and I've been just about everywhere else in the temple," said Raphael, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation.

"And you're trying to find him...why?"

The blonde raised an eyebrow. "It's April Fool's Day and you're really asking me that question?"

The other biker paused to think this over before calmly bookmarking his place in the book he was reading and getting to his feet. "Where's the last place you saw him?"

"He wasn't at breakfast this morning and he hasn't been anywhere near the kitchen all day. Gurimo hasn't seen him either and Master Dartz only saw him last night; Mai doesn't really care either way, so she's no help," concluded Raphael, grimacing when he mentioned Mai's name.

"You expected her to care?" said the redhead flatly as they exited the bedroom. "The only thing she's got an eye on is Jounouchi, which is only slightly terrifying; she's quickly affirming her status as a stalker."

"You're one to talk," replied Raphael with a hint of amusement. "How long have you been researching Kaiba?"

"…Changing the topic back to Valon. Where exactly have you looked?" asked Alister, choosing to ignore his older friend's comment.

"I started at Valon's room; I knocked on the door but he didn't answer. After that I went to the kitchen, the Room of Souls, the Great Hall, the living area, and the spare rooms in the Resident Hall. I got done checking my room and you haven't seen him either, so that honestly leaves me with nothing."

"Well, I'm doing nothing else anyway. Might as well find out what he's up to anyways—we may stop him before he tries to pull some dumb prank on us," said Alister with a sigh, following after Raphael reluctantly.

* * *

Twenty minutes later the two bikers found themselves back where they had started, short one Valon and out of ideas as to where the boy could be. They had been in the Great Hall, the kitchen, the living area, all the remaining spare rooms in the residence hall, and the Room of Souls, but there had been no sign of their youngest friend.

"I've got no clue as to where he is at this point," said Raphael, sounding worried. "I saw him last night and the plane is still here, so I know he's here on the island…do you think he's outside somewhere?"

"This is probably a trick, you know," said Alister dismissively. "Valon's probably setting something up right about now, and he'll spring it on us any minute," he added, pausing in front of Valon's closed bedroom door. He frowned at it and folded his arms over his chest as he studied it.

"What's up?" asked Raphael, back tracking once he realized that the redhead had stopped in front of the Australian's room.

"You said earlier that you knocked on Valon's door but you got no answer. Did you actually go in his room to see if he was in there?" inquired Alister.

"I did," replied the blonde man. "He wasn't in there, though."

"Maybe he went back inside when we were somewhere else," suggested Alister thoughtfully, knocking on the door once with his knuckles before opening the door and entering the room. He grimaced at the mess that greeted his eyes. "You'd think that he'd learn to throw the trash away," he remarked, scowling at the stack of empty soda cans sitting on a desk.

Raphael followed after him, sidestepping a pile of clothes sitting on the floor. "It doesn't look like he's here, though," he said as he peered into Valon's open closet door. "If this is a prank, it stopped being funny hours ago."

Alister tilted his head, his frown deepening when a strange sound entered his hearing. "Hey…call me crazy, but I think I hear something."

The burly man paused, half turning and listening intently for whatever the slender man was hearing. Moments later, he heard a muffled shout and he looked to Alister in confusion. "I hear it too, but where's it coming from? It's not in the closet…Valon?" he called uncertainly, looking around the room for any sign of the brunette.

Alister looked to the wall, wondering if there was a secret passage hidden in the room; last week Valon had inadvertently gotten locked in a hidden room whose entrance was behind a bookshelf and he had been trapped there for several hours before anyone realized where he was. It would not be surprising if the boy had once again managed to get stuck behind the wall.

He moved the door aside to look behind it, but when his fingertips touched something unfamiliar he blinked and looked at the door; a few seconds later he let out a strangled yelp, backing away from the door in visible surprise.

"Alister?"

"I found him," said the redhead, stunned by the sight that greeted him. "You're not going to believe this."

"What do you mean?" asked Raphael in confusion, padding across the room to find out just what Alister had found—and then he found himself gaping in amazement when his gaze went to the back of Valon's door.

Their missing friend had been duct-taped to the wooden surface, securely held in position by the multiple strips of silver tape that crisscrossed and overlapped each other; his arms and legs appeared to have been taped together before he had been mounted to the back of the door. A strip of tape was over Valon's mouth, which explained why the boy had not called out to them earlier.

After a moment of regarding this strange sight, Alister abruptly began to laugh and nearly doubled over. Raphael looked torn between laughing and being concerned, but even he began to chuckle when Valon glared at the both of them balefully, his expression speaking louder than words.

After a few more minutes of laughter, Alister reached over and took the edge of the strip covering Valon's mouth. "This is going to hurt," he warned, ignoring the teenager's muffled sounds of protest and ripping the tape off quickly.

Valon yelped in pain, scowling at the redhead with a murderous look. "I bet you did this, you blighter!" he snapped, struggling to get free but unable to move; whoever had taped him to the door had been sure to layer the tape to the point of rendering him immobile. "On'y you would come up with somethin' like this!"

"Oh please. This obviously took hours, and Raphael can attest to the fact that I've been in my room all day," retorted Alister with a scoff, beginning to try and peel away another strip of tape.

"What happened?" asked the blonde as he fell to assisting the other biker, trying to get a free edge to pull the tape away with.

"Tha's the million dollar question! I dunno wha' 'appened! I 'member eatin' dinner las' night, 'n' I 'member gettin' real sleepy 'n' goin' t' bed. Next thing I know 'm taped t' the door, trussed up like a turkey," Valon explained in frustration, struggling briefly before giving up again.

"Whoever did this knew what they were doing; they must have drugged you. My money's on Gurimo," said Alister, growling when the tape he was pulling on got stuck under several others.

Raphael decided that the tape was not going to be easy to get off normally and bent over, pulling the hunting knife that he kept in his boot out. "Keep still," he said to Valon firmly, beginning to carefully cut through the tape. "And Alister, if this was Gurimo's doing then he would been gloating about it earlier when we asked him."

"Then maybe it was Dartz!" snapped Valon, grinning slightly when one of his arms came into view.

"Like Master Dartz would tape you to a door," scoffed Alister, pulling on a huge part of the tape to free Valon's left arm further. "Can you picture him doing that any time soon?"

* * *

Dartz reveled in the peace and quiet of his room, almost humming as he stacked the incense in the tray near the desk. He was going to be able to meditate peacefully for a change; he had warned Valon last night not to do any pranks, even though it was April Fool's Day, and he figured that the Australian had been listening.

Of course, the sleeping powder he had put in the Valon's dinner, couple with the five rolls of duct tape he had used on the teen, were precautionary measures to ensure the boy followed those directions. Who knew that such a simple modern invention could have so many different purposes?

* * *

_By the way, one roll of duct tape can hold a person to a plywood board while being suspended in midair, and one hundred strips of duct tape applied to a car can hold it in midair for nearly five minutes. True facts._


	124. Ticky

_UGHHHHHH. _

_I have managed to catch a very ugly nasty stomach bug, and it's rendered me nearly useless. I have a little energy at the moment, so I'm going to put up this update and call it quits for a little bit until I feel better._

_Anyways, this one is set pre-canon in Raphael's past and I hope you enjoy it!_

* * *

Raphael tilted his head curiously to stare at the furry white thing hiding under Uncle's desk, wondering why it was making that angry hissing noise at him.

It curled up even further against the wall, its blue eyes glittering with malice. Its ears were laid back against its head and its fluffy tail was lashing back and forth, thumping on the ground every now and then as if the floor was a drum it was beating on; the bell on its collar jingled as its head lowered to the ground.

He dropped Sebastion onto the carpet before he sat down as well, studying the furry white thing intently. It belonged to Auntie and Uncle, Raphael knew that much, but Papa had not let him near it when they had come over to visit; he had said that it was not nice and to stay away from it.

Raphael was not supposed to wander off somewhere by himself, since he wasn't supposed to worry Mama, but he had left Sebastion here and he could not simply abandon him; he had not realized the furry white thing was in here as well, but now Raphael had a better chance to study it up close.

The three year old frowned, trying to remember what the word was that Mama and Papa had used when they had been talking about the furry white thing; he had a book in his room that had all sorts of animals in it, including one that looked like what was hiding under the desk, but he had trouble remembering what it was.

When the furry white thing meowed warningly at him, though, the word abruptly resurfaced in his mind and Raphael stretched a hand toward it hopefully. He knew what this animal was. "Ticky?"

The cat let out a low rumbling growl, but it did not come out from where it was crouched under the mahogany desk. Its blue eyes narrowed even further and it showed its teeth. He tried again, never moving once from where he sat. "Nice ticky," he said confidently, patting the ground beside him to try and get the cat to come out of its hiding place.

The cat continued to growl at him from its position under the wooden desk, but its ears had perked up at his voice and it now looked halfway curious.

He patted the ground again. "I nice. No hurt ticky."

It took a cautious step forward, its eyes softening slightly but still narrowed.

"Nice ticky," Raphael repeated, smiling brightly as he extended his hand toward it.

* * *

Lilith frowned, looking around her in concern. "Robert, where's Raphael?"

Her husband looked over at the blonde young woman. "The last time I saw him he was in the parlor with you; I got up with Pierre so he could show me the painting he just bought," he replied. "I don't remember seeing him after that."

"I only took my eyes off him for a second…I think he mentioned something about Sebastion earlier, dear. Did he say anything to you about it?" asked Lilith, halfway rising from her seat to look over the room; this movement was made slightly difficult by the fact that she was six months pregnant and she sat back down seconds later.

"What, that silly little bear Mother bought him?" asked Edith, waving a hand dismissively and cutting over the beginning of Robert's reply. "It's probably lying around here somewhere."

The taller man frowned at the comment. "Edith, he's three. He isn't supposed to be wandering around by himself; he could get into all sorts of mischief while he's alone."

Pierre's eyes narrowed and he looked over the top of the newspaper he had been reading. "What sort of mischief?" he asked. "Nothing destructive, I hope."

The Englishman scowled at the other man when he was confident that neither Lilith nor Pierre was watching. "Don't you fret, love. I'll find him; you just remain where you're at," he said soothingly, squeezing his wife's shoulder comfortingly as he passed her. "Raphael's probably out in the hall. He's only been gone for a matter of minutes."

He was confident that Raphael had not gone far; the child was obedient and knew better to go upstairs without an adult with him, and that meant he was downstairs somewhere. The real question was just where his son had disappeared off to.

A thought occurred to him as he entered the front hallway and it made him distinctly uneasy. What if Raphael had bumped into Felicia, his sister-in-law's cat? The white feline was distinctly unfriendly and had in the past scratched both him and Lilith, even going so far as to bite Lilith at one point; the thought of his young son encountering the cat was not a pleasant one.

He turned down the hall and noticed that the study doors were open; remembering that he had been in the room with Raphael earlier, he entered Pierre's study. When he walked in, though, he found that he was forced to stop moving entirely when his hazel eyes landed on the center of the room.

Raphael was sitting on the floor with a cheerful smile on his face, Sebastion lying beside him on the carpet. Sprawled across the toddler's lap was Felicia, her purrs audible from the other side of the room and her eyes halfway closed in contentment; her claws were kneading in and out of the carpet and her tail was curled around Raphael.

Becoming aware of his father in the room, Raphael looked up at him and beamed proudly. "I has ticky," he announced, petting the cat's fur.

"I see that," Robert said, amused in spite of himself. He gingerly took a step forward and got down on his knees beside his son; Felicia was behaving for the moment, but he was not entirely holding his breath. He eyed the cat cautiously before he gently scratched Felicia behind her ears; the cat purred even louder and she leaned into his hand, not displaying any sort of threatening behavior.

"You certainly seem to have a way with cats," he remarked with some surprise, ruffling his son's blonde hair.

He had a feeling that once Lilith got wind of the fact that Raphael seemed to like cats they would soon be getting one—his petite wife loved cats and had been after him to get one for some time, and this would be a perfect excuse to humor her.


	125. Weights and Bets

_I be a zombie KoK, but I live. Sorta._

_While on cold meds and while suffering from the stomach bug, I came up with this shot. I'm also going to put this up now, because there seems to be some sort of error involving log-ins, so I'm going update before the ability to do so is taken away._

_Anyways, like most of my bunnies I have no idea where this came from, but I find that medicine does many strange things to my bunnies. It's also kinda short and random, but I'm still on the mend. Meh._

_Set post-series and I hope you enjoy!_

* * *

"Raphael, do you have a minute?"

The blonde man blinked, looking away from the computer and turning his head to the entrance of the cubicle. When he saw who was speaking, he broke into a smile and swiveled around in his chair fully to face the young woman. "Of course, Ellie. Is something wrong?" he asked, noticing the sheepish expression she had.

"Oh no. I stopped by for a couple of reasons; I've still got some work to do before I go on my lunch break," Ellie said, gesturing to the small pile of papers she was holding in her arms.

"Okay, so…what's reason one?"

"Actually, it's a really silly sounding question," she explained with an embarrassed smile on her face, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Okay, and this question would be…?" said Raphael slowly, wondering what was on the woman's mind.

"Do you lift weights?"

He blinked. "Huh?"

"Do you do any kind of workout? Like, go to the gym or something like that?" Ellie asked in a rush, a pink flush gracing her cheeks.

"…Dare I ask why you need to know the answer to that?"

Ellie gave him an apologetic smile. "I was on a water break and I happened to overhear a couple of guys nearby talking about it and they…well…"

"Let me guess: one of them started a bet as to whether or not I actually do work out," guessed Raphael dryly.

The young woman nodded. "I know this is a really personal question to ask you, but—"

"Don't worry, Ellie," said Raphael with a laugh. "Valon asks questions at the drop of a hat and I'm used to hearing them; besides, this isn't the first time someone's asked me that. I never understand why no one really asks me that in person—I usually find out about these sort of things second hand," he finished, making a face.

"But do you actually do anything like that? I didn't see any kind of equipment when I was over on New Year's," began Ellie curiously, but the man shook his head.

"Believe it or not, I don't," he replied, leaning back in the chair. "I did some heavy lifting for a couple odd jobs here and there a while back, but I don't officially do anything. The closest thing I do in regards to one is twenty crunches every other morning, but that's done more out of habit than anything else."

"So…no weights or anything like that?"

"Nope," responded the older man with a smile. "Does that about answer your question?"

"Well…actually, they brought something else up. Don't take any offense to this, but do you…um…?"

"No, I don't take drugs or any sort of muscle-enhancing vitamins. I promise," Raphael interrupted flatly.

Ellie began laughing. "I'm guessing you've been asked that before?" she said, her brown eyes twinkling in mirth.

"That question pops up far too often for my tastes," he deadpanned. He looked over at her again with both of his eyebrows raised. "I'm almost afraid to ask about what else you came in here for."

"Huh? Oh yes, that's right. I was wondering if you wanted to go get some lunch with me today—my treat," she added brightly, winking at him.

"I'll gladly go," said the burly man. "You don't have to pay for my meal, though."

"Nonsense," said Ellie firmly, planting her hands on her hips. "You always buy me lunch whenever we go out to eat; every now and then I need to return the favor, so I don't want to hear another word of argument."

Raphael saluted her, a visibly amused expression on his features. "Yes, ma'am. Before we go, though, I'll need about five more minutes to finish this report I'm working on," he said, gesturing to the computer vaguely.

"That's fine. I have a couple things to finish up as well," she replied, dipping her head to the papers in her hands. "I'll see you in a bit!"

With that parting comment Ellie turned, disappearing from view as she rounded the corner of the cubicle. Raphael watched her go with an amused expression before he reluctantly returned his attention to the computer.

Ellie, meanwhile, sauntered triumphantly down the row of cubicles to the small group of men who were staring at her with flabbergasted expressions. When she got up to them she directed a cool stare to one man in particular.

"He does _not _work out and he does not do any drugs, as I told you earlier; I expect to see the money you boys owe me on my desk by the time I get back from delivering these papers. Maybe next time you won't be so quick to judge someone based on their appearance," she said curtly as she continued on her way to the elevator.


	126. Desert Days and Snakes

_I need to stop watching Animal Planet. I really do._

_My bunnies were going over "Caught in the Current" while I was sick and they whacked me over the head (as they tend to do on a daily basis—and by the way, it HURTS when they do that). _

_…That, coupled with some program on Animal Planet, brought this to life._

_Again, keep your eyes out for typos; I'm still kinda iffy, though I'm better than I've been for a while, and I may change the title later. Set during DOOM, sequel to "Caught in the Current" and I hope you like it!_

* * *

Alister sighed, grimacing as the heat of the Nevada desert blasted him when he stepped outside. He was grateful that he was not going to have to go on any scouting missions or the like today—the weather channel had promised that it would be over a hundred degrees by three o'clock and he did not relish being out here any longer than necessary.

He noticed Valon by the entrance to the garage of the small house they were currently residing in, washing his motorcycle off and clad in a tank top, shorts, and flip flops; the drawback from temporarily staying in the desert was that sand and dirt got wedged in the gears and the engine of their motorcycles, and if the bikes did not undergo constant maintenance their performance would be severely limited.

Alister was not out here, though, to wash his motorcycle off. He had inadvertently left Dyna Dude in the front compartment of the bike and he had merely come out to retrieve the toy; whenever he was driving the bike he never left the toy in his pocket, fearing it could fall out somewhere on the road. "Spray me with that and die," he warned as he moved into the hose's line of fire.

Valon stuck his tongue out petulantly. "Like I'd do tha'," he said, although that mischievous look on his face suggested that had been his intention. "Such faith you 'ave in me, Alister. Like I'd really do somethin' like tha' t' you."

"Uh huh. Keep that hose pointed away from me," he retorted as he pulled his keys out of his pocket to open the compartment. "I don't fancy getting wet."

"But the 'eat's gotta be mis'rable f'r you, mate. You're just not used to it," said Valon, lowering the hose when Raphael came out to go to the mailbox.

"Why do you think I'm in the house, where there's air conditioning?" Alister asked, pulling Dyna Dude out and setting it on top of the handlebars so he could reclose the compartment. As he pushed the key into the lock, Valon grinned wickedly and turned the hose on him—he had waited until the redhead's attention was elsewhere.

The redhead adroitly ducked the stream of water and crouched down behind his motorcycle; he jarred the vehicle and both his helmet and Dyna Dude fell to the ground. "Valon, stop that," he snarled, reaching for the broken action figure. "If I wanted to cool off I'd go get a cold shower or something like that."

"C'mon, you spoil sport! Live a li'l!" called the Australian mischievously. He redirected the hose toward where Raphael was pulling a stack of envelopes out of their mailbox, though the older man was out of reach. "B'sides, anythin' goes, chum!"

Alister grumbled as he rose to his feet, looking around for his helmet; it had bounced off somewhere when he had been forced to duck behind his motorcycle. Unable to immediately locate it, he put his hands on his hips and scowled. "Valon, did you happen to see where my helmet went?"

The boy blinked, turning around to face Alister. He debated on trying to shower the red-haired biker with the water again but decided against it. "I think it rolled off somewhere…ah! There it is," said Valon, pointing to where the black helmet was resting under a nearby bush.

Alister eyed the teenager warily to ensure that he was not going to get soaked before stalking over to the bush. He was about to bend down to pick it up when Valon's voice said sharply, "Alister, wait! Don' go over there!"

He paused, half turning to register the alarmed expression on Valon's face. "Oh no. I'm not falling for some stupid trick you're about to pull on me. You'll probably splash me or something," he said matter-of-factly, reaching down to pick up his helmet.

Valon dropped the hose entirely and ran forward. He grabbed Alister's arm, yanking him backwards from the bush before the redhead had enough time to realize what was going on. At the same moment there was a loud hiss and something leaped out from the body of the bush, very nearly catching Valon on the leg but missing. The boy yelped and lost his balance, inadvertently pulling the other biker with him.

Alister recognized the subsequent rattling sound seconds later and he found himself staring at the short but muscular body of a rattlesnake that was now fully exposed on the driveway, curled up and hissing at them coldly. Valon was also keeping a wary eye on the snake, considering that they were now on the ground where the snake could easily strike them.

"I didn' remember fast enough…tha' blighter was sunnin' 'imself this mornin' on a rock when I came out 'ere 'n' I watched 'im go under tha' bush ten minutes ago," said Valon quietly, keeping an eye on the snake.

"Gee, thanks for warning me," he retorted in just as quiet as a voice, gingerly moving his hand as he very carefully began edging backwards. "Valon, move very slowly. No sudden moves, no yelling, nothing to agitate this snake. Understand?"

"B'lieve me, chum, 'm not gonna make this bloke mad. They're poisonous, aren' they?" said Valon uneasily.

"Most unfortunately," replied Alister tightly, eyes never leaving the snake. He shifted cautiously as he tried to get his feet under him, but the serpent hissed and coiled even tighter—and seconds later it flung itself forward at him, fangs bared.

Valon's hand suddenly shot forward and wrapped around the snake's neck to pull it away from the older biker, trying to fling the reptile away from the both of them before it tried to bite either of them. He was incredibly lucky that the snake had no time to react and managed to toss the snake a short distance away.

Alister stared, completely flabbergasted, and then he promptly punched Valon in the shoulder. "What on earth possessed you to grab the snake?" he snapped, hiding his concern as he searched for any sign that the snake had bitten the younger teen.

"Don' worry—it didn' get me," replied the Australian. "I didn' warn ya in time tha' the dumb thing was in the bush. It wouldn' be fair if you got bit 'cause o' me."

Alister was caught off guard by this response, but he had no time to dwell on it. A familiar hiss had instantly caught his attention—the snake was back. Valon had not managed to toss it far enough away and it was definitely angry; at the moment it was curled dangerously close to Alister and it looked as if it was promising to strike again.

Raphael abruptly came into view behind the snake and grabbed it expertly by the tail, lifting it into the air and away from his friends. He did not even give the rattlesnake a chance to realize what had happened; he cracked it as if it were a whip and they both heard an explosive snap come from the snake's body. Raphael flung it out into the brush seconds later, watching it fall with a dark expression.

"I hate snakes…don't go poking it or anything like that just yet. Some snakes take up to six hours to officially die, since their nerves don't register the fact that it's dead yet," he said, glaring at the place where the snake had landed.

The younger bikers had both been caught off guard by how fast Raphael had killed the serpent, but then Valon grinned up at the older man. "Where'd you learn 'ow t' do tha'?" he asked, looking impressed.

"I had a lot of practice on the island," the blonde replied brusquely, looking over the both of them with a slightly worried expression. "Did either of you get bitten?"

"Nope. We got lucky, mate," said Valon brightly, rising to his feet.

"Valon nearly did because he was dumb enough to actually grab the snake," said Alister as he also got to his feet, raising an eyebrow at Raphael. "And how did you know it was a rattlesnake?" he inquired as the trio began going back to the house.

"It wasn't that hard, especially once I heard it start rattling and saw you two on the ground," said the blonde wryly. "Valon, you still need to put the hose away if you're done with it."

"Really? But wha' if there's another one 'n' it's just as mad as the other bloke?" asked Valon, looking unhappily toward the bushes where the hose disappeared into.

"Rattlesnakes aren't pack animals, Valon. You'll be fine," replied Raphael firmly.

The boy grumbled but moved past his older companions to turn the water off. As he passed Alister, though, he turned and said brightly, "I jus' realized we're even!"

"Even?" repeated Alister, hiding his confusion.

"Well yeah. You saved me from drownin' last week, 'n' I saved ya from bein' bit by a snake," announced Valon cheerfully. "'Sides, you're not such a bad fella."

"So if I hadn't helped you out last week you would've let me get bitten by a rattlesnake? That's not an encouraging message you're sending me."

Nonetheless, he had to admit that his first impression of Valon had been wrong; the boy had decided to help him and had even gone so far as to grab the snake in mid-strike. Maybe his first impression of the younger teenager had been wrong after—

A face full of cold water ended his train of thought and he glared at the now laughing Valon with a murderous expression. "Gotcha, mate!" he crowed, laughing at the annoyed expression on his companion's face.

...Never mind.


	127. Cat's Eye View

_KoK is still semi-alive, though she's seen better days._

_I'm feeling halfway better now, so I have an odd sort of update inspired by a comment from _Jupiter's Magic_. It's a bit unconventional, but…eh._

_Set post-DOOM and I hope you all are managing to stay healthy._

* * *

I open my eyes and stretch, my mouth opening in a wide yawn as my claws dig into the blanket. Although it is still dark around me, I do not let this bother me in the slightest—to me, everything in the dark is just as visible as they would be if the light were on.

After stretching my hind legs I glance around the room for any of my humans, though I'm not surprised when I see no one. I had chosen to sleep on Cat Brother's bed this time, since Gentle Brother is starting to catch what humans call a "cold" and Wild Brother tends to be a restless sleeper; I end up sometimes getting a kick to the face when I sleep on his bed, but Cat Brother and Gentle Brother don't move at all when they go to bed and so I stay with them.

[And yes, I do know that my humans have names; cats are highly intelligent and we understand quite a bit of what they say, so I definitely know their names. However, I was a kitten when I assigned my own names to them and I'm afraid I haven't broken the habit.]

I leap down gracefully from Cat Brother's bed and pad silently from the room, twitching an ear in the direction of Gentle Brother's room—that sound's what he calls an "alarm" and this means he should be waking up about now.

I debate on going to see him, but then I change my mind and instead go down the stairs; Gentle Brother will come down soon enough. Cat Brother has my breakfast ready, I'm certain. He's always up before the others and he usually puts food in my bowl, sometimes with tidbits of ham or egg in the mix.

I listen for Cat Brother as I go toward the lit room, but unsurprisingly I can only just barely hear him; he is, at times, as aloof and silent as one of my own kind. He also is awake far into the night, unlike Wild Brother and Gentle Brother. I do not understand why, but it's not like I can ask him and I'm content to leave the matter be.

I feel the cold tile beneath my paws and I let out a drawn out meow to announce my presence. Cat Brother turns away from the heat box (I believe they call it a "stove") where he prepares the food and looks down at me.

"Right on time," he says, bending down to scratch that one spot between my ears; I love it when any of the humans do this, since that spot is so hard to reach. He picks me up and sets me on his shoulder while he continues to make his own food, while I try my best not to unsheathe my claws as I maintain my balance on his shoulder.

After a moment he turns and returns me to the floor, working on something on the cabinet before reaching for my bowl and setting it on the ground. He has not let me down—I can smell the eggs mixed with the food and my stomach immediately rumbles.

I haven't been eating long when I hear familiar footsteps on the stairwell and I pause, half listening while I chew on my food. Gentle Brother tends to accidentally walk into things and I've learned not to be in the hallway when he's coming down the hall; once he inadvertently stepped on my tail when I was in his path. When he makes it into the room without harm I leave my bowl and walk over to him, rubbing myself against his leg as a greeting.

He looks down at me and bends down to pick me up, his large hand easily lifting me into the air; Gentle Brother would never hurt me on purpose, despite his formidable appearance. "Hello, Misa," he says sleepily, using his other hand to scratch behind my ears again.

He sets me down and moves to the table, saying a similar greeting to Cat Brother as he goes; although he seems alert he still manages to walk into a chair and nearly knocks it over before managing to right it in time.

Cats cannot physically laugh, but my tail twitches in amusement as I resume eating. Cat Brother also lets out what can be termed as a laugh as he brings two flat bowls with food on them to the table.

After Gentle Brother leaves to go to…wherever he disappears off to (he's sometimes gone for hours a day, though I don't know where he goes) and I finish my breakfast, I slip from the room and make for the window seat. The sun is coming up and I want to let my food settle for a while—a catnap is in order, I believe, and I hop onto the windowsill to catch one.

I don't really know how much time passes after I settle down for a nap; I do know that Cat Brother goes upstairs to take a shower because I hear the water running from up there at one point, but I return to napping.

When I wake up, though, it's because Wild Brother is running down the stairs, half laughing as he scrambles for a closet and hides in it just as a fully dressed and irate Cat Brother gets down the stairs, the fur (hair, I think it's called) on his head a very different color—it's red now instead of its normally deep emerald.

"Valon, you best hope I don't find you!" he snaps as he stalks through the house in search of Wild Brother.

I watch Cat Brother pass the closet where Wild Brother is hiding before I hop down from my perch on the window and follow after him—their chases are amusing to watch, since most of the day I am forced to entertain myself, and I make my way to the head of the hall to watch the action.

The chase begins immediately this time; normally Wild Brother stays hidden longer, but this time he makes the mistake of leaving his hiding spot and Cat Brother chases after him. Wild Brother yelps and takes off down the hall—unfortunately, he's coming right at me and I nearly avoid being trampled underfoot.

"Look out, kitty!" he calls as he sidesteps me.

I leap to the back of the couch and watch the chase from there, though it is not too long this time and Cat Brother does not manage to catch the younger human. Instead, he stops at the bottom of the stairs and stalks back up them; like most of my kind, he hates to be made a fool of and often halts the chase first. I hear him mutter something about "my shampoo" and "hair dye", though I can't imagine what either of those mean—I do know that Cat Brother often retaliates when Wild Brother does these sort of things.

I watch Wild Brother peer around the corner of a doorway cautiously before bounding out of the room he was hiding in and comes over to me. "Sorry, Misa," he says, picking me up and setting me on his shoulder when he sits on the couch to turn on the magic box (television?). "I almos' ran over ya."

His shoulder is too bony to sit on, though, so I simply leap onto the top of his head and nestle myself in his fur behind those odd eyes (he says they're "goggles", but I have no idea why he needs another pair of eyes); I don't how his fur sticks up the way it does, but it's fluffy and soft and I've often made a bed in it when Wild Brother sits to watch the box.

"Crazy kitty…you're not normal, know tha'?" he says once I get comfortable, though he does nothing to dislodge me.

I could easily tell him the same thing if I could talk, but I content myself with a meow and settle down for another cat nap. If I know Cat Brother, the calm will not last for long—I'll sleep while I can.

Not that I mind them chasing each other. They're my primary source of entertainment, after all.

* * *

_No, I was not making a mistake with Alister's hair color; cats can see color, but they are partially color blind (their reds and greens are reversed). In Misa's eyes, Alister's hair is supposed to be green—for it to be red from her perspective means that…_

_Well, hopefully you figured it out :D_


	128. A Surreal Sight

_Oh goodness, my bunnies finally remembered this. _

_While having a conversation with Gweniveve Skyes ages ago she brought this up, and my bunnies remembered this only recently. I guess all those cold meds helped me after all, although being sick and having finals did no favors to the length of this update._

_Set post-DOOM and immediately after "Lightning and Needles"; remember, Alister has a broken arm during this chapter. I hope you enjoy this short chapter!_

* * *

Valon had seen many strange things and had lived through even stranger events in his life. One tended to gain a blasé attitude when confronted by something abnormal if they lived constantly with the strange and disorienting; the Orichalcos topped the weirdness scale of things Valon had encountered, and he doubted that anything could beat it.

Alister was waiting for him when he got back from a date with Shizuka, motioning for him to keep his voice down. "Whatever you do, don't annoy Raphael tonight," he said quietly.

Valon raised his eyebrows as he set his helmet with its companions on a nearby stand. "'N' 'ello t' you too. Gee, my day was fine, thanks f'r askin'," he retorted sarcastically, before he frowned as a thought occurred to him. "Wait, what's wrong with Raph? Did somethin' go wrong a' 'is job t'day?" the Australian asked in concern.

"See for yourself and be sure to keep your voice down," Alister said simply. "Look at him from the kitchen though, or you won't see it."

"See what?" the teenager snapped in an exasperated whisper.

"He's pouting."

"…No 'e's not."

"Yes he is."

"Raph doesn' bloody _pout_."

"Well he is now. If you wish to see this phenomenon I suggest you do it now before he realizes you're home," the redhead replied, slipping down the hallway and back into the kitchen.

Valon debated before he followed after the redhead silently, half curious to see what Alister was talking about. When they reached the kitchen Alister motioned the shorter younger man to the edge of the doorframe, a finger to his lips. The brunette bit back the annoyed retort and peered around the doorframe.

Valon had seen many strange things in his life, but this took the cake.

Raphael was sitting in the armchair, watching a nameless program on the television. From all appearances, it would seem the blonde was brooding; his arms were folded loosely over his chest and he seemed to be hunched over a bit in the seat. This was normal behavior for Raphael, who did occasionally have an off day and would behave similar to the way he was now. He even seemed to have a barely visible scowl on his face.

What threw everything off balance was the lollipop stick in his mouth.

Valon stared blankly at the oldest of his best friends for a few minutes before he walked out of the kitchen, back down the hallway to step outside the front door to close it behind him, waited ten seconds, and then stepped back inside the house to return to the kitchen.

"Did you really think that you were dreaming?" Alister asked with relative amusement, keeping his voice down to prevent Raphael from hearing them.

"I was 'opin' I was," said Valon with evident disbelief. "Wha' on earth did…wha'…?"

"Doctor's appointment. They missed again when they were drawing blood—they nailed him three times."

Valon winced in sympathy. "Poor bloke. No wonder they gave 'im a lollipop. 'm kinda surprised tha' 'e actually took it."

"It was either the lollipop or a Dora the Explorer sticker, but the doctor wouldn't let him leave without taking one or the other. This is the first time I've actually seen him with one; usually he hands it over to you. I don't think he appreciates them condescending to him like that," replied the redhead, pulling his camera out from his pocket with his good hand. "I guess he decided he wanted the lollipop this time, though."

"You always seem t' whip tha' thing out whenev'r one of us does somethin' like this," the teenager muttered flatly as he gestured to where Raphael was sitting, eyeing the camera warily.

"Of course I do. Especially when it comes to Raphael, you have to be ready to catch the little moments in life."

"…Tha's just a really fancy way of sayin' you're gettin' blackmail material f'r later, innit?"

Alister smirked as he pointed the camera at the blonde and clicked on the capture button. "How'd you guess?"


	129. Mistaken Identity?

_My plot bunnies come up with the weirdest things._

_I find that when I get out of exams I have to humor them for a while, and one of them happened to be this one. I have mixed feelings about this one…mehhhhhh._

_Set during DOOM and I hope you like it!_

_PS: I am majorly behind in the review replies and to my beta duties; this week has been insanely busy and I've been running around like a chicken with its head cut off. Sorry guys—I'll try to reply as much as I can this time._

* * *

"You're being ridiculous!"

The loud comment made Alister and Valon both look up sharply from the checker board to the hallway. They knew that Gurimo and Raphael had been quietly arguing since they had come back from their previous assignment two hours ago and that the argument had lasted since they had set foot in the safe house.

The reason for this argument was actually quite simple: while they had been taking down their latest target Valon had gotten separated from the group and had nearly been captured by the hired men prowling on the premises. Gurimo had been all for leaving Valon behind but Raphael had refused to leave until the Australian had returned to the rendezvous point and had even ducked back to help the boy escape his chasers.

This, of course, had not settled well with Gurimo and he had waited until they had returned to the safehouse before calling their older friend aside to initiate the argument. Now the redhead was distracting Valon from what was currently going on in the hall; the last thing Valon needed to do at the moment was to interfere, since it was technically because of him that the argument was taking place. It had worked until Gurimo's loud and indignant voice cut through the uneasy silence of the house.

Alister motioned for Valon to stay put and rose to his feet, silently moving to the doorway and standing just out of sight of the two older men in the hallway to listen in; much to his annoyance, the teenager followed after him.

Knowing that the boy would likely refuse to leave, he gestured for Valon to remain silent before Raphael's voice, quiet but distinctly cold, replied, "I fail to see how making sure one of my friends came back safely is ridiculous."

"That's the thing, Raphael: _they are not your friends_. They are associates, yes, ones you work with; you could even consider them as partners. But eventually, they may lose their souls for Master Dartz's cause and to be so attached to them is simply not allowed."

"I'm still going to make certain that they stay alive for as long as possible. We still have missions to do that _won't_ always be under your supervision, and I can't very well do them by myself."

"You've also exhibited a preference for taking the boy's side in any instance—"

"That's not true," Valon silently mouthed the sentence the same time Raphael said it.

The redhead nodded in agreement—Raphael was not one to blindly defend anyone. More than once he had sided with Alister and in equal amount of times had sided with Valon, and had even sided with Gurimo on several occasions.

"Isn't it?" Gurimo said mockingly, his voice rising again. "Why is it that whenever I say something to him you stand up for the brat?"

"Valon got separated by accident tonight and you didn't wait for him. I hardly call that saying something to him," replied Raphael coolly.

"Don't be a smart aleck. You know exactly what I'm talking about," snapped Gurimo furiously. "He is _not_ a replacement for your younger brother, Raphael! You can't keep defending him!"

Alister narrowed his eyes. That was a low blow, even for Gurimo's standards. True, he had raised a fair point, but it had been an unnecessary one used only as a barb.

He put a restraining hand over Valon's mouth when the boy began to bristle, no doubt about to voice his indignation. "Don't," he said softly enough for the other biker to hear. "Don't get involved in this argument."

It was some time before Raphael spoke again, but when he did his voice was completely devoid of emotion. "I am well aware that Valon and Julien are two separate people, Gurimo; to confuse them with each other would be an insult to them both. Besides, Master Dartz told me _specifically to _watch Valon. If that means ensuring he gets back here safely and disobeying your order to leave him behind, then so be it. Take it up with Master Dartz if you want to push the issue. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm tired and I'm going to bed."

Alister ducked backward and pulled Valon back away from the door just as Raphael's shadow passed them, catching a glimpse of his back as the man moved up the stairs. He did not watch Raphael leave, instead dragging the teenager back to the checkerboard when he heard Gurimo's footsteps coming toward them.

He kept hold of Valon as Gurimo came into the room to reclaim his cloak, refusing to release the boy until he heard the front door shut. To provoke the man even further at this point would not be in their best interest—although Alister could not honestly say that he was not sorely tempted to punch Gurimo when the monocled man came into the room.

* * *

Valon stared at the closed bedroom door hesitantly, unsure of what he was supposed to do. It had been hours since Gurimo had left and Raphael had not left his room; Alister had made some soup earlier, but he had not come out for it and the other two bikers were uncertain how to approach their eldest friend.

"If you're so worried about it then go check on him," the redhead had said irritably when Valon had directed yet another distracted glance at the stairs in hopes of seeing their missing friend. "You're obviously not paying attention to the checker match."

There had been no hiding the concerned note in Alister's words, though—that was why he had let the Australian go upstairs to check on Raphael. The teenager suspected that the red-haired biker would have gone upstairs himself if Valon had not.

He debated for one more moment before he tentatively knocked on the door. "Raph? You okay?" he asked.

There was no immediate reply and Valon half-wondered if his older friend was asleep after all; he wouldn't be surprised if that was the case. As he turned away from the door, however, he heard a muffled voice call out, "Door's open, Valon."

The boy returned to the door and gingerly pushed it open. Raphael was sitting on the bed and his back was to him; he also appeared to be sorting through his deck. Valon knew his older friend well enough to realize that whenever the blonde started going through his cards it meant that he was upset.

He stood in the doorway for a moment, wondering what he was supposed to say, and at last he decided to cut to the heart of the matter with a brusque, "F'r wha' i's worth, I don' think you're confusin' me with your brother."

Raphael's hands violently jerked, nearly causing his deck to slide out of his grip.

"You 'n' Alister both kinda look after me a lot, but tha' doesn' mean you're confusin' me with your kid brother," he continued uneasily, fidgeting in place and trying to gauge a reaction from his friend. "Gurimo's jus' a git. Don' let 'im get ya down."

When the blonde still said nothing he finally said, "I, uh, I gotta get back. Me 'n' Alister are playin' checkers 'n' I think it's my turn…'m kinda stuck 'cause 'e's a better player th'n I am. Maybe you c'n come down 'n' gimme some advice? You don' 'ave to if you don' want to, but there's some soup waitin' and—"

"How many does he have?"

Raphael's quiet voice startled the Australian out of his babbling (he hadn't been able to help it; awkward situations tended to make Valon start talking faster). He looked over and watched the man neatly fold the cards back into his deck before setting it gently on his nightstand.

"How many kings does Alister have?" he repeated as he rose to his feet, noticing Valon's confused expression. There was nothing on his face to suggest that he had been bothered about anything, but the Australian could tell Raphael was still dwelling on the earlier argument. A distraction was in order.

"'e's got three 'r so," he replied, grinning as he left the room. He waited for Raphael to come out in the hallway. "Why, you gonna offer some 'elp?"

"No," said Raphael with a rueful shake of his head, following after Valon and closing the door behind him. "I don't think you're going to be able to get out of that scenario easily. Maybe I'll play a game later, though."

"Your confidence in me is inspirin', chum," Valon deadpanned.

He didn't miss the silent "thank you" that the older man was conveying through his amused expression, and Valon cuffed Raphael lightly on the shoulder to acknowledge it as they went down the stairs.


	130. Want Some Cake?

_OMG it's been how long?_

_So so so so SOOO sorry this is a late update (and it's late for Valon's birthday too, dangit), but these past couple of weeks have been nothing short of nightmarishly busy. And it's a short update too—my bunnies are kinda sluggish due to it being summer._

_Anyways, set post DOOM and I apologize again for the lateness!_

* * *

"I don't want any," Alister said, briefly eyeing the crudely cut piece of chocolate cake being offered him before returning his attention to the television.

Valon pouted, readjusting his party hat on top of his head. "Aw c'mon, chum! Y'know you want it!" he said, waving the paper plate under Alister's face enticingly. "It's chocolate! Don' you wanna eat it?"

"I'm pretty sure I don't," he replied bluntly. "I don't like cake all that much."

Valon's eyes widened in horror and he nearly dropped the plate he was holding. "'ow can you _not _like it? Wha's wrong with you?" he asked in open disbelief. "'eck, Raph even likes cake 'n' 'e 'ates sweet stuff."

Raphael removed the party hat that he was wearing (well, actually, Valon had forced the hats on both of his older friends when they had woken up that morning. Alister had already removed his, though) and raised an eyebrow at him. "Alister's free to dislike what he wants to, Valon. We've been over this before," he said wryly, nudging Misa away off his lap when she tried to go for his own piece of cake.

"See?" said Alister pleasantly, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands in his lap. "Besides, I didn't say I entirely dislike cakes in general; I just don't prefer chocolate cake."

Valon frowned before grinning smugly. "But t'day's my birthday 'n' I say ya hafta eat some!" he announced triumphantly.

The red-haired man merely rolled his eyes but did not look away from the television.

The Australian sighed in resignation before his countenance brightened. "Ah well, more f'r me then," he stated resolutely as he moved away from the other man—then blinked in puzzlement when his left hand met resistance and Alister let out a startled (but oddly muffled) yell. At the same moment Raphael, who had looked over to see what had happened, made a sound that seemed to be a mix between a laugh and a gasp.

"What?" he asked in confusion, looking back to see what had happened to the redhead (and what his left hand was caught on) and stared when his eyes landed on the sight in front of them.

When he had moved away from Alister the now-nineteen year old had forgotten that he had been holding the plate of messily cut chocolate cake in his left hand; when he had bounded away from his friend he accidentally slammed the plate directly into Alister's face.

Valon continued to stare, wanting to laugh but unable to (Alister despised people who laughed at him and often found ways to get back at those who did—preferably violent, pain-inducing methods) as the cake obscured Alister's features. Pieces of it fell onto Alister's t-shirt and down its front as the seconds ticked by.

"Any year you want to get this off my face so I can breathe would be good," came the clearly irritated but muffled voice from behind the paper plate, and Valon instantly took it away.

When he saw the icing smudging Alister's face and part of his hair, though, Valon could not help it. He burst into laughter, very nearly dropping the flattened piece of cake he was still holding onto the floor. Raphael started to laugh as well, although he quickly disguised it as a cough when Alister's gray eyes swiveled toward him in outrage.

"Tha's one way t' make you eat some o' my cake!" howled Valon, starting to double over.

Alister's eyes narrowed indignantly. "Birthday or not, I will go get the rest of your cake and upend over you unless you _shut up_ and disappear," he said darkly, watching as a still-laughing Valon promptly vanished from view.

Raphael tried his hardest not to look too amused. "Do you need help?"

"I can manage," responded Alister curtly as he made his way to the kitchen. "At this point, I shouldn't even be surprised that this happened—knowing Valon, he probably did this on purpose."

"It didn't look like that to me."

"It was his subconscious, then. Either way, you can't tell me that Valon didn't at least contemplate doing this."

"…I can't really argue with you there."


	131. Hidden Talents and Random Numbers

_…I love my friends and the conversations they can inspire while all of us are on a sugar high. Also, shout out to anonymous reviewer_ Misty Foxx _for a suggestion they made; although it's not a whole chapter, it makes an appearance :D_

_This is set post-DOOM and I hope you like it! _

_PS: I'm getting back into the groove!_

* * *

"Why was six afraid of seven?" asked Valon brightly, cerulean eyes shining in mischief

Alister's eyes narrowed at the Australian. "Oh no. I am not answering that. No way," he retorted with a scowl, returning his attention at the television.

Raphael, unfortunately, took the bait. "Why?"

"'Cause seven ate nine. Get it? I's like the number eight, but seven actually eats nine!" said Valon with a laugh, while Alister shot a disbelieving glance to his eldest friend. Raphael merely blinked in confusion before returning to his book, deciding that it must apparently be funny to Valon since he didn't understand what was so humorous about it.

"First of all, Valon, have you heard that joke before now?" Alister asked.

"Nope! I 'eard it from Shizuka, who 'eard it from Jounouchi," declared the brunette cheerfully. "She said almost everyone knew tha' joke, but since I didn' I wanted to test it out!"

"That explains that…Raphael, how could you have _not_ heard that joke before? You're like a walking dictionary."

Raphael shrugged. "Was I supposed to have heard it before? I honestly haven't until now," he replied, raising an eyebrow at Alister.

The redhead stared and then shook his head. "I find that highly impossible. That joke's been around since I was little, and in fact I'm pretty sure that's been around as long as the chicken crossing the road joke."

At Valon's blank expression the red-haired biker smacked his forehead and let out an exasperate growl.

"Why don' you like my joke? I's awesome!"

"'Seven 'ate' nine? Are you kidding? That has to be the cheesiest answer in history," replied Alister crossly. "I could come up with a much different one, with just as much equal ridiculousness."

"Really?" asked Raphael, looking over the top of his book in amusement.

"Izzat so?" challenged Valon, folding his arms over his chest and smirking. "All right then. Come up with a better answer."

Alister turned off the television, arched an eyebrow, and then promptly began talking. "In the first instance, Seven didn't eat Nine. Seven kicked the tar out of Nine because Seven is a ninja and Nine is a pirate."

Valon stared. Raphael set his book down.

"What about Eight, you ask? Well, during the epic battle between them Eight was caught in the crossfire and ended up on its side, thereby allowing Seven to continue on with Nine's butt-kicking for infinity, hence why that joke has been around for so long."

"And what about Ten?" Raphael could not help asking.

"That's easy. Ten's the king who first pitted the two against each other; Eight was his court jester, so even after its untimely demise it continued to entertain the king by creating the infinity loop."

Valon's jaw dropped open.

"Oh, and let's not forget about numbers One through Five. One's the Prince, Two's the Princess, but Three, Four, Five, and Six are finalists in a tournament for the Queen's hand. Seven is a competitor for the Princess's hand, and Six's afraid of Seven but annoyed because the battle's been extended to infinity."

Here the redhead paused to allow the other two bikers to digest the information and idly examined a scab on his finger (he'd accidentally cut it when he'd been making dinner the other night).

"Well, wait a minute! You didn' mention Zero!" Valon declared triumphantly.

Alister did not bat an eye. "Zero's the referee in the battle that the King instated after his jester got killed."

"Wha' 'bout twelve?"

"Six's older and less cowardly brother. And Eleven's the Queen, before you ask."

"Twenty?"

"Ten's father, who no longer can run the kingdom."

"Seventeen?"

"Seven's mother."

"The King's advisor?"

"Thirteen. No one likes the advisor and it's an unlucky number anyways."

This continued on for some time, with Valon listing completely random numbers and Alister promptly explaining their role until Raphael finally interrupted the back-and-forth between them. "You've obviously put quite a bit of thought behind this, Alister." he said, looking as if he wanted to laugh. "Do you really not like that joke?"

"You don't believe I came up with all this on the fly?" countered the red-haired biker flatly, but his gray eyes were amused.

"There's something a little bit planned about your responses. I have to wonder."

Alister's other eyebrow went up. "Yes, I spend most of my spare time when I'm alone dissecting old and ridiculous jokes. How did you guess?" he asked sarcastically. "It must be the spontaneity of my answers. They give me away every time."

"Y'mean you really made all tha' up on the spot?" Valon said, visibly impressed.

"Giving impromptu answers to mundane questions happens to be one of my many hidden talents," replied the other man dismissively as he turned the television back on, looking faintly pleased with himself.

Valon frowned thoughtfully. "You mean you've got secret talents?"

"Maybe I do, perhaps I don't. I'm not going to put them all on display for you. They're called hidden talents for a reason, you know."

"Oh come on! Don' you 'ave something better than answerin' my questions?" persisted Valon. "Anyone c'n answer my questions!"

The red-haired biker contemplated this for a moment before deciding to respond. "It don' mean I 'avta t' use 'em all at once," he said in a perfect imitation of Valon's cockney accent, earning a startled expression from the Australian. "Just don't expect me to do this all that often. I'm not a form of entertainment," he continued, this time in Raphael's gruff voice (and causing Raphael to double take).

"Whoa!" the brunette exclaimed, blue eyes wide. "Is there anyone else's voice you c'n do?"

"I told you. I'm not your source of entertainment, Valon," retorted Alister in his normal voice. He paused, remembering something from earlier. "Oh, by the way. Before Raphael interrupted us, you asked me what number Fifty's purpose was—that was the butcher."


	132. Treacherous Terrain

_…When it's not Animal Planet, it's Discovery Channel._

_Sorry this is such a late update; my summer job started and I haven't had much of a chance to sit down and work on an update. Anyways, while watching a little television there happened to be some program about surviving in winter wilderness…_

_I know. It's not even remotely close to winter. My bunnies wouldn't listen._

_(It might be because where I am temperatures are over a hundred every day D:)_

_Set during-DOOM, after "Desert Days and Snakes" and "Mistaken Identity" (and somewhere with lots of snow and ice) and I hope you like it! It's longer than most because I've been away for a while._

* * *

He hated snow, Alister decided as he picked up his boot and set it into another patch of knee-deep frozen slush.

They'd been trudging through the snow drifts for hours now; whenever Gurimo was in charge of housing arrangements for their missions, he always picked that one God-forsaken cabin in the middle of nowhere to lodge in. He had sent them on a reconnaissance mission to their latest target's location (in an equally deserted stretch of wilderness) and the path had been covered in knee deep snow; Gurimo had refused to let them take the snowmobiles for this, since he was afraid the sounds would alert their enemies, and he had forced the three of them to go by foot.

They'd just gotten done going through yet another snow drift and were now crossing a frozen lake; Alister found the idea of walking on the ice unsettling, but since Gurimo had claimed to investigate it yesterday and had determined that it was thick enough to walk on they decided to simply cut across it. As a precautionary measure, though, they stayed fairly close to shore and continued on their way to the safehouse (which was actually in view by now).

"Couldn' w-we w-w-walk faster?" Valon asked from somewhere behind him, teeth chattering audibly. "I's freezin' out 'ere."

"We don't know where the thin patches of ice are," said Raphael calmly, though he looked just as cold as Valon. "Taking it slow for now is our best bet."

"G-Gurimo said 'e checked it 'n' 'e said it was f-f-fine! Would it kill ya t-to trust 'im?"

Alister shot him an annoyed look. "I don't trust as far as I can throw him," he retorted.

As the redhead took another step something shifted beneath his feet and it was enough to make him stop. He didn't know too much about frigid environments, since his memories of winters at his old home were only fleeting at best, but he knew this much: ice wasn't supposed to shift like that.

Valon bumped into him from behind, confused. "Alister, wha' are you doin'?" he asked, baffled by the way the redhead had abruptly stopped. "You're s'pposed t' g-g-go forward, not back; 'm cold 'nough as it is," he said, shivering as another gust of cold air blew past them.

Alister ignored him, holding an arm out to keep the younger biker from going any further. "Raphael," he began warningly, moving back a step and pushing an increasingly confused Australian backward as he went.

Raphael, who had continued on without them for a few more steps, turned around when Alister called his name. Noticing the ill-ease on the other man's face, he took a step toward them to see what was wrong—and then he dropped out of view without having enough time to cry out.

It took Alister a moment to realize what had happened, but when he saw the dark hole in the ice, water already pooling out of its ragged edges, he knew exactly what had occurred. _So much for trusting Gurimo._

Valon stared at the hole in the ice where their older companion had disappeared and sucked in a sharp breath, completely forgetting about how cold he was.

"Don't!" snapped Alister sharply, aware of what Valon was about to try and keeping him away from the hole. "You'll only make things worse if you go out there!"

Even as he watched he saw Raphael resurface with a gasp and cling to the edges of the hole as best as he could; the moment the blond had gone underwater he'd had the breath driven from his lungs at the sheer iciness of the water around him, but he'd had the presence of mind to grab onto the ice and hold on long enough to pull himself back up.

This would not last, Alister noted grimly as he noticed the ice beneath Raphael's arms cracking. Already the treacherous surface was beginning to give; once the man tried to pull himself out, but a part of the ice gave way completely beneath him and he disappeared underwater again. He came back up seconds later and managed to find a sturdier edge of ice to hang onto, visibly shivering.

Alister had no idea how far the thin patch went (and was surprised by the lack of sound from Raphael), but there was another problem at hand; the man's parka and snow boots had to be soaked through at this point and it was likely weighing Raphael down. They needed to get him out before any more time passed.

He cautiously took a step forward but growled when the ice shifted ominously beneath his feet and he retreated again. The option of walking to the blond was out; he'd have to find a way to get out there without going through the ice himself.

He knew there was some sort of protocol to this situation, but for the life of him he couldn't remember what it was. That first aid class Dartz had put him in long ago had taught him just what he had to do, but he had only been paying a small amount of attention at the time and—

Raphael disappeared under the water again, this time taking longer before resurfacing. His grip on the edge of the ice was noticeably weaker; the cold water was getting to him.

"We can' just sit 'ere 'n' watch 'im drown!" said Valon urgently, looking desperate. "Come on, mate! Think of somethin'!"

And then Alister remembered what he had to do. "Valon, on the ground. Now."

The brunette stared at him. "What?"

"On the ground, right now," snapped the red-haired man sharply as he tugged his gloves off. "Unless you want Raphael to drown, get on the ground."

Valon immediately plopped on the ice, looking up at his older friend with both alarm and confusion. "I don' see 'ow this is gonna 'elp Raph any," he began worriedly.

"Get down on your stomach," ordered Alister grimly. "I'm going to grab your ankles and push you out toward Raphael; hopefully we can reach him from here. Once you've got him, don't let go."

He looked to where the blond was clinging to the ice and called out, "Try to reach Valon if you can when he comes to you!"

Raphael did not devote any energy to a verbal reply, but judging by the comprehending expression on the man's face Alister knew that he'd been understood. He bent down and carefully pushed Valon forward slowly, hoping that the teen would not go through.

The boy yelped when some of the cold water seeped through his own coat. "'oly—Alister, this's cold!" he said over his shoulder.

"I'm glad you realize that. Try to reach Raphael," growled Alister, his grip tightening on Valon's ankles.

The brunette nodded and stretched his hand out obediently. Alister carefully pushed Valon forward a bit more when it looked like the Australian was just barely out of reach.

It took a few minutes for Raphael to muster up enough strength to reach for Valon, since the icy water was sapping all the strength out of him, but he finally managed to pull himself far enough out of the hole to grab Valon's gloved hand.

Alister immediately began backing up, slowly dragging his two companions toward him and to thicker ice. It was slow going since the ice threatened to give out at any moment (and at one point Raphael had lost his grip on Valon's hand), but at last Alister managed to get the both of his companions to safety.

The moment he felt the danger was past Alister shrugged out of his own parka and handed it to Raphael with a terse, "Put that on."

Raphael almost immediately accepted it and pulled it around him in an attempt to keep himself warm; his shoulders were too broad for the slender redhead's coat, so he wrapped it around him as best as he could and then huddled into a small ball.

"You okay?" asked Valon, watching his friend uncertainly.

As the older man was now shivering far too violently to give a coherent answer (and the fact that his lips were as blue as his eyes at this point), Alister decided it was best to get Raphael back to the cabin and into warm and dry clothes. The biggest issue was not getting back to solid ground but getting back as quickly as possible.

Almost as if on cue, though, the roar of a snowmobile cut through the silence of the woods around them and the sound startled all three bikers. When the initial shock had passed, though, they realized that the snowmobile was parked just on the edge of the forest; its rider was already coming toward them, exasperation clearly written on his face.

"Are you three incapable of staying out of trouble when I'm not watching you?" asked Gurimo as he came up to them. He showed absolutely no concern at all for Raphael's current state and in fact did not even ask for an explanation; Alister suddenly got the unsettling feeling that Gurimo had been watching them this whole time (and likely would have done nothing to help, even if things had gotten truly desperate).

Valon seemed to get this impression as well. "'ow long were you watchin' us?" he snapped indignantly.

Gurimo made a_ tsk_ in the back of his throat. "Now really. What gave you that impression?" he inquired.

Alister felt his eyes narrow. "What would have happened if all of us had gone through the ice?" he asked then, although he felt as if he already knew the answer.

The monocled man shrugged. "I will not always be with you on your missions. You need to figure out how to do these things without my help."

Valon's face immediately darkened, as did Alister's.

"I-It's ok-k-kay. D-don't worry 'b-bout it," said Raphael in a clipped voice, speaking for the first time since he'd fallen through the ice. "H-He's r-r-r-right."

Valon opened his mouth to protest but Alister cut him off with a silencing look, waiting until he was sure the teenager would not say anything before directing his suddenly emotionless gaze to Gurimo. "Lesson learned," he said curtly. "Now could you please take Raphael back with you on that snowmobile? I doubt Master Dartz would be pleased if Raphael catches his death of hypothermia."

Gurimo debated and then let out a dramatic sigh. "Very well," he stated, turning his back on them.

Alister helped Raphael to his feet and waited to see if the blond could manage to walk to the snowmobile; when it became apparent that the taller man was still able to move (albeit with a slight hunch to try and keep himself warm) he returned his attention to Valon, motioning him forward.

Valon waited until the snowmobile had pulled out of view before exploding. "Why tha' dirty, lowlife, rotten…tha' was _not _okay 'n' you know it!"

"I do," said Alister darkly. "But I didn't feel like arguing with him, especially since he's the one with a snowmobile and Raphael needed to get out of the cold as quickly as possible."

A long silence fell between them, broken only when Valon groaned. "Y'know wha' I just realized?"

"What?"

"We're prob'ly gonna 'avta walk back through the snow since the lake's no good anymore."


	133. How Do You Get Lady Gaga's Attention?

_Eh. One of my friends asked me for this one, so here it is. It's rather short, but my bunnies are sluggish still (I think it's because of the heat)._

_Set post-DOOM and I hope you like it!_

* * *

"How do you _what?_"

Valon grinned at him, cerulean eyes dancing. "'ow do you get Lady Gaga's attention?" he repeated. "C'mon, Alister, you should be able to figure it out. It's easy."

The redhead mulled over the question and frowned, wondering if the boy had some ulterior motive for wanting to know the answer. Determining that there was not a logical answer immediately available he took a wild stab at it. "Tell her that her favorite costume store is burning down?"

The brunette shook his head with a laugh. "No, but good guess."

"Let her know the butcher won't make her that sausage hat she's been wanting for so long?"

"Nope."

The redhead shrugged and returned his attention to his book. "I give up. I don't know that much about her."

"You don' know 'er?" asked Valon with noticeable surprise, forgetting about his earlier question momentarily. "She's always in the news f'r somethin' or another."

"You'll find I don't watch the news all that often," replied Alister absently. "And it isn't like I don't know who she is or any of her songs—it's kind of hard to ignore her, actually. I just don't know every little detail about her."

Valon frowned, thinking this over. "You know 'er music?"

"Yup. One of the girls at the center usually plays her songs on her stereo. Kind of annoying, actually."

"You don' like 'er music?"

"You're being awful persistent about this. I don't entirely favor her songs, to answer your question; it's not like you listen to it either."

The Australian grinned. "But you do know a couple o' 'em, right? So 'ow do you get 'er attention?"

"I just told I didn't—"

"Poke 'er face!"

Alister digested this for just a moment before looking to Valon, a faintly amused expression on his face. "That was actually pretty good," he admitted. "Where did you hear that one?"

"I didn' 'ear it from anyone!" replied the brunette brightly. "No one told me tha' joke."

"You made it up?" asked Alister, his eyebrows arching in surprise. "Huh. That's…impressive."

When the redhead resumed reading his book a few minutes later the Australian turned on the TV and flopped onto the couch, deciding not to tell Alister about the website he'd found with all those Lady Gaga jokes on it; that would mean admitting he'd been on Alister's laptop, which was something he was not supposed to do.


	134. Comeuppance

_Because a lot of you were clamoring for comeuppance for Gurimo's actions a couple chapters ago and because my bunnies heartily agreed with them. _

_Set during-DOOM and after "Treacherous Terrain," and I hope you all like this!_

* * *

"You wished to see me, Master?" asked Gurimo, going to one knee and keeping his gaze on the floor as he rose once again to his feet.

The summons to Paradius had come as a surprise to him, since it had come almost immediately after he and the others had returned from their latest assignment; he'd had enough time to drop off his three work associates back at the DOOM temple before returning to the mainland. Normally Master Dartz waited until the following day to get a report.

Dartz did not look away from the window. "I did," he said calmly, staring out at the city life beneath them. "I need to have a discussion with you on a few things that have come to my attention."

"What is bothering you, Master?"

Dartz did not turn around, instead continuing to look out. He briefly adjusted the collar of his tailored suit before moving away from the window to the head of the conference table. "It's the nature of the survival tests that you've been giving to my Three Swordsmen."

"What of them?" asked Gurimo with surprise, making eye contact with the Atlantean. "Are they too lenient? Too easy?"

"That's not the problem I'm having, Gurimo. My issue with them is the terms under which I gave you permission."

Here he fixed Gurimo with a stern look. "As we agreed, I allowed you to test my Swordsmen provided that they were not placed in a situation that provided any real chance of fatality; I allowed you to do these 'survival' tests with the knowledge that they would be used to better help them when the time for doing assignments on their own came."

He folded his hands and studied Gurimo. "The mission to Hawaii I sent all of you on a while ago was one such test, was it not? You lied to Valon about the rip tide shifting out because of an incoming storm and he was nearly taken out to sea. The only reason I said nothing at the time was that you made certain someone accompanied him."

"How did you know that, Master Dartz?" asked Gurimo, looking unsettled.

"I have a direct link to the power of the Orichalcos, and that pendant you wear also links you to it. I can see anything that has even the smallest connection to the Orichalcos, and that includes you four."

The tone of voice Dartz had adopted warned the other man that now was not the time to speak out and he kept silent. When he was confident that the monocled man was not going to interrupt them, he continued.

"I was more skeptical of the rattlesnake that you placed dangerously close to their parked motorcycles a week later, which later nearly bit both Alister and Valon. Had either of them gotten bitten they would have had to go to the hospital and that alone would have jeopardized our entire organization. This past mission, however, pushed the boundaries of our agreement."

"How so, Master?" asked Gurimo, looking genuinely alarmed. "They were in no real danger! I was overseeing them on this current test because I knew how dangerous it was, and if things got truly drastic I would have helped them!"

"No real danger? Don't presume to lie to me," repeated Dartz icily. "You're incredibly lucky that only Raphael went through the ice and that Alister and Valon did not."

"The ice wasn't that thin—"

"And what if it was?" said Dartz sharply, making Gurimo wince. "What would you have done if all three of my Swordsmen had gone through? You could not have possibly helped all of them."

"But Master, no lasting harm was done! I mean, yes, certainly, your plans have been set back because Raphael caught bronchitis and the other two are also dangerously close to becoming ill from tramping through the snow, but no one died."

"You're missing the point, Gurimo," said Dartz severely, silencing Gurimo's protests. "The point behind these tests was to ascertain their readiness to accomplish my assignments on their own without supervision. Intent to actually place them in danger was something I would not have agreed to had you informed me beforehand."

He folded his hands in front of his face, studying the pale-faced man on the floor before him, before continuing. "I also find that the timing of these tests to be oddly suspicious. You usually put them to the test whenever one of them annoyed you."

When the little color that was left in Gurimo's face drained Dartz's eyes narrowed. "Don't think I don't pay attention to the interactions between you and my Swordsmen. You tend to get irritated quickly with them whenever they don't immediately do as you ask.

"On the Hawaii assignment I sent you on two months ago Valon kept kicking the back of your seat; not even a day later he's caught in a rip tide that was supposed to have moved further out to sea.

"Alister had been particularly irritated with you while in the desert and refused to do anything you asked him to—the following morning the rattlesnake was seen sunning itself on a rock suspiciously close to his motorcycle.

"Raphael got into a disagreement with you a month ago shortly after a mishap in capturing your target's soul, and in this past mission you were the one to assure him the ice was thick enough to travel on."

Dartz's eyes never left Gurimo even when the man went onto both knees. "Forgive me, Master, for letting my own feelings cloud my judgment!" he said anxiously. "I forgot my place!"

Dartz said nothing, watching Gurimo with a small frown before letting out a heavy sigh. He could not afford to take Gurimo's soul—besides, it wasn't worth the effort—and the fact that Dartz had scolded him had done more damage than an actual punishment; he could swear Gurimo was about to burst into tears and he simply was not in the mood for it.

"Very well," said Dartz at last. "This time I shall let this slide. Be warned that I will not be so lenient in the future—whether you like it or not those three are the most important tools to defeat the Nameless Pharaoh when he arrives. Make no mistake of it, either," he added, noticing the skeptical look that had reluctantly appeared on the other man's face. "That time is fast approaching."

Gurimo rose to his feet and bowed entirely. "Thank you, Master!" he said, still looking anxious. "I will not fail your expectations again!"

"I'm sure you won't," said Dartz dryly. "In the meantime, though, you're definitely getting a paycheck reduction and you are to remain here until further notice—there is some paperwork needing to get done and I cannot let the matter go entirely unpunished."


	135. Comeuppance II

_Because I know there's some part of you guys that says that what happened to Gurimo in the previous chapter wasn't punishment enough—and because my bunnies were also clamoring for more as well. It's short, but...well, it's satisfying :D_

_Set after "Comeuppance" and I hope you all enjoy this!_

* * *

Dartz eyed them critically as the four of them entered the Great hall, his eyes moving briefly over each of them as they moved in front of him. This was the first time in two weeks that he'd seen his Swordsmen, as he had left them here to recover; he had no interest in catching whatever they had, so he'd quarantined them at the temple. To make up for their absence, though, he made Gurimo work overtime.

Alister and Valon had not outright caught bronchitis, but they both looked as if they were still fighting off some version of it; Alister was paler than normal and Valon had a cough, not to mention that both of them were looking at him with glassy eyes. Raphael still looked miserably ill, swaying where he stood and his voice hoarse and strained whenever he spoke, but the fact he had gotten out of bed and had answered to the summons spoke volumes.

It would be another week before they would be ready to go out on the next assignment, he decided, since all of them were ill—that blank expression on Raphael's face was definitive proof of that. For now, he would debrief them on their next target. There was no point in sending his Swordsmen out when they were so noticeably weakened, nor was it in his interest to delay for longer than necessary.

Gurimo stood off to the side, clearly not wanting to get too close and jeopardize his own health; he remained there even as Dartz began speaking. When Valon let out a particularly nasty cough during Dartz's debriefing Gurimo shot the boy an annoyed scowl, causing Dartz to inwardly roll his eyes. Clearly the time apart had done nothing to ease the tension between them.

"You are dismissed," said Dartz with a small wave. "And for pity's sake, Valon, cover your mouth when you cough."

"S'rry," mumbled the Australian.

"Honestly, boy, you could get others sick with that cough," snapped Gurimo, turning to leave the room as the other bikers followed after him. "Be more considerate!"

What happened next, even Dartz could not tell if it was an accident or not.

He could say with certainty, though, that there was something oddly calculating in the way Alister fell against Gurimo and something oddly planned about the way Valon seemed to stumble into one of the candle stands and in the way the boy's hand seemed to bump it toward Gurimo's cloak—but then again it could be because the two of them were ill and their sense of equilibrium was off.

Either way, though, Gurimo's cloak caught fire as a result and the flames were halfway up the length of Gurimo's robe before he finally reacted with a yell, patting at the fire as it traveled up his clothes; by the time he had put the fire out, only the top half of his robe were left.

"_So_ sorry, Gurimo," said Alister, not looking the slightest bit apologetic. Valon was laughing in between jagged coughs, while Raphael merely looked confused; the antibiotics he was taking must have been keeping him in a slightly dazed condition. "I've been light-headed lately, and I just lost my balance…you, uh, might want to get out of those clothes."

"Yeah," sniggered Valon, grinning. "We c'n see your undies 'n' frankly I don' wanna see 'em longer th'n necess'ry."

The monocled man scowled and flushed all at once, stomping from the room and muttering furiously under his breath as he went; he bowed low to Dartz before hurrying from the room.

Dartz sighed audibly, causing the remaining three bikers to look at him. "You three should return to your quarters. Your next assignment is in a week, regardless of whether or not you're healthy—I suggest you make use of your downtime, since you seem to be so…light-headed," he added skeptically.

As the three of them left, Dartz could have sworn that Alister and Valon gave each other a subtle high-five, but by that point he'd already been turned around and did not want to bother examining matters too closely. Besides, he could not prove that they had deliberately fallen the way they had; it had happened too fast to register.

If someone asked for his opinion, though, he'd be inclined to say that the whole incident had been planned between Alister and Valon.


	136. Voice Lessons

_My hand's doing a little better now, but it's still in the brace and I'm still trying to get it back to the point when I can type without my whole arm aching._

_Anyways, this one is set post-DOOM and it's a continuation of a suggestion made by _Misty Foxx._ I hope you enjoy this short update; there should be another one up tonight that's a little longer :D_

* * *

"I don' get it."

Alister paused, holding a plate in his hands as he looked over his shoulder at Valon. "You tend not to get anything on a daily basis," he replied, returning his attention to the dishes.

Valon rolled his eyes and hopped onto the counter. "Aren' you a regular comedian?" he asked. "Anyways, I was thinkin' it over 'n' I just don' unnerstan' it."

"I'm so glad you did, but could you clue me in on what you're talking about?" Alister inquired as he placed the plate in the dishwasher.

"'ow c'n you sound like me 'n' Raph? I mean, yeah sure, i's not tha' 'ard t' imitate me, but Raph's voice sometimes sounds like 'e gargled gravel. 'ow'd you figure out 'ow t' sound like 'im?"

"Thanks, Valon. I really appreciate that," called Raphael's voice sardonically from where he was working in the living room (he must have been listening in on the conversation).

"No prob, Raph!" chirped Valon brightly, redirecting his attention to his other friend. "Sooo, Alister? 'ow'd you do it?"

Alister arched an eyebrow as he washed out the frying pan they'd cooked hamburgers in. "With a lot of practice," he replied with a vaguely amused expression.

"Is there anyone else's you c'n do?"

The redhead sighed. "I've told you before, I don't perform. I'm not a jukebox—you can't just order me to talk in someone else's voice."

Valon tilted his head. "Well, okay, but still. Seriously, 'ow'd you learn?"

The slender man paused again. "You and Raphael's voices are fairly similar to each others, if someone disects both of the voices," he said at last.

"What?" Valon asked in surprise. "Me 'n' Raph sound nothin' alike!" he continued, sounding disbelieving.

"I call it as I see it—or in this instance, hear it. If you take away your accent and if Raphael's voice is a little less gruff, you'll find that you two sound almost alike," Alister replied with a careless shrug.

Valon's eyebrows furrowed. "I think tha's ridiculous," he announced after he mulled this tidbit over.

"Think what you will, but in the end I can still imitate both of your voices," said Alister boredly as he resumed doing the dishes. "You asked, I answered. Now, hand me that platter while you're over there."

* * *

_Trivia fact: in the dub version of the show, Raphael's voice actor is Marc Thompson. This particular voice actor also voices Valon and—surprise—Duke Devlin and Gansley (one of the Big Five; he was the one that was the Deep Sea Warrior in the Virtual World arc)._

_True facts. I couldn't make this up._


	137. Drink A Lot of Milk

_As promised, here's a slightly longer update for you! This can be seen as another present for _Crime Scene Fairy, _set post-DOOM._

_On another note, the Independence Day update for this fic may come either before or after the Fourth of the July—my twentieth birthday is on July 4th, so I won't be updating anything on that day._

* * *

Alister's not quite sure what to expect when he asks Raphael to come with him to the family center; the nursery's in need of another volunteer since one of them is sick and Valon is out with Shizuka for the day.

It's not that Alister's worried that people may assume the worst before getting to know Raphael; the burly man's wearing a casual shirt and jeans that manage to hide some of the muscles that often make people uneasy. What his clothes can't do for him the blond makes up for it with an easy-going attitude that sets people at ease when he speaks to them.

It's not even when the nursery worker he's taking the reins from asks Raphael bluntly if he's some hired hitman (to which his friend arches an eyebrow and replies _no_ to—he's heard that question more than once). Alister inwardly rolls his eyes as he introduces Raphael to the girl, letting the taller man slip by him into the room where the children are as he takes the baby from his coworker.

What's making Alister so uneasy is that, when he comes into the room himself, it's to find that all twelve children in the room have stopped what they were doing entirely to stare at Raphael, some even having their mouths drop open when they see him.

To his credit Raphael hasn't moved at all, instead staying at the back of the room and watching them with about as much curiosity as they're giving him; every now and then his blue eyes move to a different item in the room, but for the most part he's keeping an eye on them. There's a barely noticeable tightness in the man's shoulders that let Alister know that Raphael's slightly uncomfortable with the stares; he may be used to judgmental stares from adults, but there's something unnerving about a child's open gaze that seems to get to him.

Alister sighs and then rolls up his sleeves, moving forward and managing to get half of them to stop staring at Raphael by redirecting them to the coloring book station; he can't get all of them interested, since about six of them are still gazing at Raphael with a look of morbid fascination and the ones he's got are shooting the other man furtive looks.

Raphael eventually passes the small group standing stock-still in the middle of the room and joins Alister at the table to help. The moment he sits down two young toddlers instantly gravitate toward him, hopping onto his lap before they continue coloring in their books placidly—at least the smaller ones understand that Raphael's not going to hurt them.

It isn't until Raphael gets to his feet to get a couple paper towels to clean up some spilled paint when one of the older boys moves from the group, stepping in the man's way. He adjusts the backward baseball cap so it's higher on his forehead and locks eyes with Raphael. "Mister, how I get big like you someday?" he asks solemnly.

Alister, who's watching the encounter from the corner of his eye, snorts in laughter in spite of himself. Tyler has blond hair under that baseball cap and he has blue eyes as well. No wonder he's asking that question.

Raphael blinks, looking down at the child with something of surprise. "Drink a lot of milk?" he offers at last, sounding unsure of the answer himself—Alister suddenly gets the suspicion that this is the first time anyone's asked him that question.

Tyler studies the older man for only one more minute before the serious expression almost melts away into a big grin and he bounces forward. "Catch me!" he crows as he leaps at the man.

Raphael's caught off guard by the sudden movement but manages to catch Tyler with one of his hands; the momentum of the child's jump forces Raphael to swing the boy into the air and let the momentum carry him in a small arc around his body before letting Tyler's feet touch the ground again.

Any pre-existing tension vanishes in that instant. "Me next!" Lily calls, half-skipping over to him. "Spin me like that too, Mister Giant!"

"Mister Giant, Mister Giant!" Jesse giggles. "Sits so we can gets on you!"

Raphael raises an eyebrow at his new nickname but shrugs, instead easing himself to the floor; almost immediately the small group converges on him and when Alister looks over next it's to find that they've made an impromptu jungle gym out of his older friend; when Raphael gets to his feet he holds his arms out to the sides to accommodate the girls dangling off his arms, while Tyler and Tommy cling to his shoulders. The redhead doesn't worry that one of them is going to fall off—Raphael's good with kids and he's extraordinarily gentle with them.

Alister shakes his head and returns to playing with the younger children at the coloring books. Looks like he had nothing to worry about at all, he reflects in amusement as he helps a two year old color a bumblebee red.

As an afterthought Alister reaches into his pocket to whip out the small camera he'd smuggled in and takes a quick picture. He's got a feeling that Ellie would appreciate a photo like this—if nothing else, he can find a way to make it into blackmail material.


	138. Pokes and Reassurances

_Hey!_

_OMG I'm SO sorry I haven't updated (and that this isn't the Fourth of July special)! I had to work on about a week's worth of algebra homework and then had to juggle a forty hour work week and a summer cold and then ended the week with killing a rattlesnake and being attacked by the psycho lizard from hell and—_

_…Yes, you read that right. Felt like Steve Irwin, too._

_Anyways, this one is set during Valon's story arc, right after A .Clueless. Conundrum's fic _"Out of Line" _and based on a story I read by LuckyLadybug, and I hope you all forgive me for the late update!_

_PS: Kudos to anyone who spots the overused Harry Potter joke._

* * *

Poke. "Alister?"

The redhead stifled a groan and rolled over to face the wall. He was not humoring Valon this early in the morning, no way no how—he'd been up mulling over the earlier encounter with the Angliss' and had only dropped off to sleep an hour ago, and he did not want to look at the clock right now. Doing so would make him want to murder the teenager, and as Raphael constantly pointed out that was still illegal.

There was another poke on his shoulder, albeit a hesitant one. "Alister, I know you're awake," came the boy's voice, though there was a definite cautious note to his words.

"Then you know what's about to happen, don't you?" replied the redhead testily, deciding to pull his pillow over his head in hopes that the teenager would get the message. "I'm extending mercy to you this one time, though, so get out before I change my mind," he continued, his voice muffled by the pillow.

Valon poked him again. "So, you awake 'r wha'?

"Let's go with no, since that's likely to get you out of here faster."

The boy growled indignantly. "You serious, mate?"

"No, because if I was my last name would be Black. Now go away and let me sleep."

A long silence followed this statement, and Alister dared to hope that Valon had left. Unfortunately, he could not return to sleep and after sitting in his bed for about five minutes and staring at nothing but the underside of his pillow, he decided that he would be better off watching television. He pushed the covers off of him and rose to his feet—

—only to come face to face with a startled Valon.

Alister backed away to sit back down on his mattress, glaring at Valon indignantly. "Were you watching me sleep?" he asked, an annoyed scowl crossing his features. "That's reassuring."

"I was not!" snapped Valon, planting his hands on his hips. "I jus' wanted to ask a question!"

Alister's patience was running thin at this point and he really was not in the mood. "So spit it out before I toss you bodily out the nearest window," he retorted, folding his arms and reaching over to turn his bedside lamp on.

Valon's face suddenly twisted into an uncomfortable expression and he did not make eye contact with the other man, instead pulling at the hem of his shirt; his face was half-obscured by the shadows cast by Alister's lamp. Finally, the teenager looked back up at him and said, "D'ya reckon tha' my pare—tha' _they_ are going to get me back?" he asked hesitantly.

The irritation slid off his face and he assumed his emotionless mask, understanding why Valon would risk his health to come in here. No wonder the teenager was looking so nervous."Not a chance," he said quietly.

"But what if they do?" Valon asked urgently, frustration written on his face. "'m underage, Alister. I's the dumbest reason ever 'n' I know tha' if they get me they might do a vanishin' act 'n' make sure I don' come back 'n'…'n'…"

Alister took note of the emotions playing out across Valon's face before sighing. He would have to elaborate a bit more, since Valon seemed to have come in here for reassurance.

"I'm not entertaining that thought because I'm making sure it won't happen," he said firmly. "Raphael won't let you leave with them if you don't want to go. He of all people understands about having bad family. Make no mistake of it," he continued, noticing Valon's skeptical expression. "As far as I'm concerned, they stopped being your parents the moment they even contemplated abandoning you. They aren't getting you back."

Valon stared at him. "You promise?" he asked uncertainly, cerulean eyes unreadable.

"I would think that was fairly obvious," said Alister irritably, but the usual ire behind his words wasn't there and his gray eyes had softened. "Just don't worry about it. Ms. Wilson promised us that she would look into the matter and find out what she could about you. We'll cross the bridge when we come to it."

The boy studied his shirt hem before the tension left his shoulders and a shadow of his old grin flitted across his face. "Thanks, chum," he said, stifling a yawn.

Deciding he had been sappy enough for this hour of the morning, Alister scowled. "If you're tired, then go back to bed and let me sleep in peace," he said with a groan, turning his lamp off and flopping onto his side again.

He heard Valon chuckle as he padded out of the room, but he waited until he heard Valon close his bedroom door before sitting up again in the darkness, eyeing the window grimly. He had no choice, then: he'd have to go to _that place_ tomorrow, first chance he got.

He had really not wanted to do this in the first place, but if Valon was bothered enough to come to _him _of all people for reassurance Alister would have to; besides, he had promised the Australian that he would do everything in his power to make sure that his younger friend could stay and he would see this mess through to the end.

…Provided, of course, that Kaiba didn't have him either killed or arrested when Alister went to see him tomorrow morning.


	139. Picnics, Old Faces, and Fireworks

_…So my bunnies got carried away and they've been wanting to write a long update since I've been writing really short chapters._

_Anyways, most of you guys wanted me to combine all of my options when you went to my poll, so I decided to try it out (my bunnies were all leaning toward this to begin with) and came up with this ;)_

_Set post-DOOM and I hope you all enjoy the lengthy (and late) Independence Day shot._

* * *

Valon blinked in some confusion when he saw the small group assembled under the large oak tree, shifting the bowl of potato salad his girlfriend had made earlier; the refrigerated food was chilling his bared arms, since he had elected to wear a tank top and a pair of long shorts. "Shizuka, who all did your brother invite t' this 'ere picnic?" he asked in surprise.

"I think he invited Yugi and his friends," said Shizuka thoughtfully, straightening out a wrinkle in her knee length sundress. "Oh! There's Anzu, too!"

The Australian let out an inward groan. No wonder Raphael and Alister had declined to come along—they'd probably figured out who had been invited, he realized unhappily, and he mentally cursed Jounouchi.

Shizuka seemed to have picked up on Valon's sudden discomfort. She looked to the group under the tree and then back to Valon before she realized what was wrong. "If you want to, we can go somewhere else…" she began slowly.

"Naw," he replied, shaking his head ruefully. "I's all right, love. I'll manage," he continued, straightening up and beginning to walk towards the group. Shizuka had been looking forward to this and he was not going to stand in the way of that. "I'll be fine, so let's get under the shade—i's 'ot out 'ere."

He'd known this meeting was coming for some time, what with him living in Domino and the fact he was dating Jounouchi's sister; Raphael had even mentioned it last night at dinner. He just hadn't expected it to be so soon, he thought wryly as Shizuka bounded forward to meet a girl with shoulder length brown hair.

Valon hung back uncomfortably when he noticed the looks being directed at him from the group, who had only then just recognized him. Honda and Otogi were looking at him with slight frowns marring their features (and a hint of jealousy when Shizuka came back over to tug her boyfriend under the tree), while a white-haired boy he did not know watched him curiously.

A shorter teen he _definitely_ recognized stepped forward and smiled brightly. "Valon, hey! Jounouchi mentioned you might be coming with Shizuka," Yugi said cheerfully. "You can go ahead and give that bowl to Anzu. She's in charge of the food—Jounouchi and Honda kept getting into it."

"Er, thanks," said Valon, startled by the warm reception from Yugi and handing the ceramic bowl to the girl.

"Speaking of which," said Anzu, taking the bowl and marching over to the other boys. "You boys get away from that blanket! It's not lunchtime yet!"

"Aw, but Anzu—!"

"Honda, stop your whining and go throw a Frisbee or something."

"But—!"

"_No._ And Otogi, that smoulder won't work on me since I'm not one of your fangirls, so go on."

Yugi leaned in conspiratorially to the Australian while Anzu was chasing the boys away. "Don't worry about them—they'll warm up to you," he said. "It just takes a bit. If you play a couple games with them they'll soften up, guaranteed."

Valon's countenance brightened. "Really?"

As if on cue Jounouchi came back over, looking directly at Valon. "We're playing Ultimate Frisbee, and we're gonna need one more guy. You in?" he asked, grinning at him.

"Sure, but…'ow do you play?" the Australian replied curiously, tilting his head.

Honda overheard this and came back over, holding the Frisbee loosely in his hand. "You _don't _know how to play?" he asked incredulously, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "But everyone knows how to play that game."

"They didn' exactly cover tha' in 'Takin' Over The World 101'," Valon deadpanned.

Otogi let out a startled laugh. "I guess that ultimate Frisbee isn't exactly a necessary tool for an aspiring world conqueror," he agreed reluctantly.

"Well, 'm sure t' figure this game out if I start playin'," said Valon, oddly surprised by the fact that the two boys had not yelled at him or had called him their worst enemy.

The white haired boy seemed to have read his mind. "They raised a stink when Jounouchi first told us that someone else was dating his sister, but Otogi attracts girls all the time and Honda got over it when he learned that Shizuka was happiest with you," he said sagely when they had moved to wheedle Anzu again. "And Jounouchi is two times friendlier with guys when his sister isn't involved."

"I noticed," said Valon wryly.

"I'm Ryou," said the boy. "I heard all about you from Yugi, when Jounouchi said you were coming. Don't worry, I had a five thousand year old tomb robber sharing my body that tried to kill Yugi and his friends—I know how it is," he continued brightly.

Valon honestly laughed. "Really?"

"Yep. Like Yugi said, they warm up to you eventually," said Ryou. "Now let's get going before they start dragging us away or—"

A startled yelp made them look over to where Jounouchi had slung Yugi over his shoulder and was running away, cackling madly as he ran. Anzu was yelling, shaking her fist at the retreating back of the other boy.

"—or they do something like that," sighed Ryou, following after them.

Valon grinned and bounded toward the rowdy group of boys (Yugi had punched the top of Jounouchi's head and the taller boy had been forced to put him down). This promised to be a fun afternoon.

* * *

"It seems that they aren't going to kill each other. Good—one less thing to worry about," said Alister to himself wryly, carefully balancing the baby on his hip. "Lily, get down from there before you fall," he called to the girl where she was on the jungle gym. The child giggled but obeyed, climbing down from her perch.

The director of the daycare had decided to send the kids to the park today since most of the families that went to the center were at the park anyways; Alister was offering his services as a volunteer to watch the children while the families were setting up for the annual picnic.

He watched Valon for a moment longer before his gray eyes went to where volunteers were setting up that evening's fireworks on a platform and sighed in contentment. This would be the first Fourth of July in a long time that he would not have to worry about Valon blowing something up—there was no way that the boy could possibly set anything on fire if he was on the other side of the park and across a pond.

"Mister Giant, Mister Giant! Carry me next!" called Jessie's voice, and Alister glanced over to where Raphael was surrounded by the small children. Tyler and Tommy were already clinging to his shoulders, and Jessie was hanging off his arm.

Ellie was sitting nearby with a curly haired girl playing with a doll on her lap, watching Raphael with a bright smile. "Mister Giant?" she asked him, her brown eyes twinkling. "That's an interesting thing to call you."

The blond man turned pink. "I didn't ask for that name," he muttered.

"I think it's adorable," said Ellie warmly.

Tyler and Tommy exchanged knowing glances with each other over the top of Raphael's head and then looked down at their impromptu jungle gym. "Mister Giant and Miss Ellie sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" they sang in unison.

"First comes love, then comes marriage!" piped up Lily as she passed them.

"Here comes Mister Giant with a baby carriage!" crowed Jessie.

Raphael's face went a deeper shade of red and he muttered something incomprehensible, while Ellie blushed entirely and let out an embarrassed giggle into her hands.

Alister merely rolled his eyes and mimed gagging when he caught Raphael's eye, though he did it entirely in good nature.

* * *

"You worry too much. I know you think he causes trouble when it comes to fireworks, but he can't possibly do anything like that when he's way over there," commented Ellie as she looked at the night sky. The children had remained with them until the sun had started going down, at which point all of them had gone back to their parents to watch the fireworks display.

Raphael and Ellie were sitting comfortably on one blanket near the platform, while Alister had put himself somewhere nearby to give them space; if Raphael looked carefully enough in the darkness he could see the outline of Alister's head. It was impossible to mistake the mushroom hairstyle in the semi-darkness (though he knew better than to admit that out loud).

"I don't think it. I _know _it," replied Raphael wryly. "Honestly, Ellie, you haven't seen him around fireworks."

"Take our word on it," said Alister from somewhere in front of them, seeming to have overheard the conversation. "We've lived with him for nearly five years."

"That doesn't mean that he's bound to cause chaos every time he's around fireworks, though. Can you name any other times he's had issues with them that wasn't on the Fourth of July?"

The answer to her question came from both Raphael and Alister, who began taking turns listing it off:

"New Years."

"Easter."

"Christmas Eve."

"Last week."

"St. Patrick's Day."

"Sugar highs."

"Birthdays."

"Pretty much at random."

Ellie blinked in surprise. "Really?"

"Really really," Raphael assured her. "All he has to do is blink at a firework and something goes wrong."

At that exact moment there was a loud hissing and spitting noise above his head, and it was more out of instinct than anything else that made Raphael pull Ellie into a protective embrace and duck; he heard the firework pass over his head and saw that Alister had done the same, while the people .

He heard a familiar Australian voice groan from across the  
pond. "Aw _crap_," it moaned.

"What the—?" Ellie began, but by then Raphael saw where the lone firework was going and had pulled the young woman to her feet.

"Time to go," he said firmly as he moved past the increasingly alarmed crowd, Alister materializing beside him.

The trio managed to get to the edge of the trees before the rogue firework sputtered onto the platform, and a deadly silence fell before all Hell broke loose as nearly five hundred fireworks went off all at once.

"Told you!" shouted Alister over the shrieks and bangs the fireworks were emitting, watching in moderate concern as the people around them dodged the flying explosives; although the families of his young charges were more toward the back where they were, that didn't mean that he was not allowed to worry.

Raphael moved Ellie out of the way of a stray firecracker and sighed. It had been too much to hope for one Fourth of July that didn't involve something going wrong.

...At least no one's hair/eyebrows/clothes had caught fire this time.

* * *

Valon stared at the chaos that they were safely out of range of, his blue eyes wide in shock. In his now slack hand was a sparkler, feebly sputtering as he watched the chaos unfolding on the other side of the pond.

Honda and Otogi were looking at him with wide eyes, and Jounouchi's jaw had dropped open. Yugi, Ryou, and Anzu wore identical looks of shock and Shizuka had actually let out a nervous sounding laugh. "Did you know that firework was by your foot?" asked Anzu at last, her eyes never leaving the other side of the park.

"'onestly, I didn'," he replied, stunned. "One second 'm playin' with the sparkler, then I drop it 'n' the next thing I know the park's blowin' up."

"I saw the volunteers carrying the boxes for the firecrackers through here earlier," said Yugi slowly, watching the sight across from them with concern. "There must have been a hole in one of the boxes and a firecracker could have fallen out."

There was a long pause, and then Jounouchi said shakily, "Huh...so that's what Raphael meant by 'keep him away from anything explosive.'"


	140. Separation Anxiety

_My bunnies are enamored with small children lately, it seems. _

_This one hit me a while back, but I merely stored it away until my bunnies felt like they wanted to go ahead and flesh the idea out. It's set during Alister's childhood and I hope you all enjoy it!_

* * *

"Rosie, I love you with all my heart, but it's time. He's old enough for a sitter," said Jonathan, watching his wife as she played with their year old son.

The young woman pouted, looking up at him from where she was on the floor. "But Jonathan, he's so cuddable," she replied, scooping the giggling baby into her arm and snuggling with him. "I couldn't possibly leave him all alone—he's just a little baby," she continued with a coo, tickling Alister's chin.

"As cuddable—that's not even a word, by the way—as Alister is, we do need to get out more," he said bluntly, sitting down beside her. "We've taken a year's reprieve from the social light, but I actually had people at work asking if we're alive yesterday."

"So what? Alister's like an itty bitty teddy bear," said Rosalie brightly. "We don't need to go to some silly party."

"I wasn't saying that," he said patiently. "I'm saying that we could use an hour or two, just to get away for a bit."

Rosalie looked down at Alister and then at her husband. "But I couldn't possibly…what if Alister thinks we're abandoning him?" she asked.

"Rosie, just for an hour," coaxed Jonathan, rounding his gray eyes. "We can get a babysitter to watch Alister and we can just go get some lunch from the café down the street. Please, Rosie? Pretty please?"

"Jonathan, not that look. Please, don't give me that look," whined the woman, starting to giggle helplessly. Alister gazed up at his father and babbled cheerfully, reaching with his small and pudgy hands for the copper-haired man. "Jonathan, that look is going to get outlawed!"

"Aww, but I don't use this look unless it's important," her husband replied, putting out his lower lip. He scooted closer to her and took Alister off her lap, putting his son on his own lap and setting his chin on top of the baby's head. "Come on, Alister, you make big eyes too."

The child cooed, his own eyes rounding as well.

"Jonathan, you taught him that look?" said Rosalie desperately, wavering under the looks being shot to her by both of her own men folk.

"Of course. You used it all the time on me when we were kids, so revenge is mine," said Jonathan, giving her a sly smile before shifting his features back into his previous expression. "Sooo, Rosie? What do you say? Just one hour?" he asked, making sure to add the last element of his 'get-Rosalie-to-do-anything' look.

"Oh, Jonathan, no! No, don't you dare look at me from under your bangs! No!" Rosalie said with another helpless laugh. "Give me back my cuddable bear!" she continued, reaching for Alister.

Jonathan skillfully tucked his son to his chest and somersaulted backwards, hopping up onto his feet and adjusting his grip on his now crowing son. "Cuddable is not a word," he taunted cheerily, still training his look on her.

Rosalie looked torn between amusement and exasperation. At last, she threw her hands in the air. "Oh all right, we'll go out for an hour," she huffed. "But only an hour, Jonathan, and I get to pick the sitter."

Jonathan grinned at her and then looked to his son. "I told you that look would work," he said in a stage whisper. The baby let out another laugh and reached up to try and yank on his father's hair.

* * *

"—and if he starts getting fussy, offer him Carrots and bounce him on your lap. Oh, and if he gets hungry there's some applesauce in the fridge you can heat up, but not too hot because it'll scald his tongue. Not too cold, either, because otherwise he won't eat it. He's teething, too, so there's some teething rings in the refrigerator. His favorite one is the one with the rabbits on it. He also needs to go down for his nap in about half an hour," said Rosalie fretfully. "Got it?"

The teenage blonde girl looked absolutely lost. "Um…"

Jonathan rolled his eyes at his wife's concern. "Carrots is the stuffed rabbit on the sofa, and don't worry, Serena. We won't be gone longer than two hours," he said easily. "If you get into trouble or have any questions, our next door neighbors know what to do."

Serena nodded, looking much more confident. "Okay. Will do, Mr. Gayle," she said with a smile. "Do you want me to take Alister?"

"Of course. Rosie, hand him over," said Jonathan.

The red-haired woman clutched Alister closer. The baby babbled as he reached for his clip-on pacifier, lifting it up and chewing on it placidly as he looked up at his mother curiously.

Jonathan repressed a sigh and stepped over, trying to take Alister from his wife; her grip tightened on the baby, but Jonathan gently pried his son out of her grip and offered Alister to Serena. The girl took Alister and easily adjusted him in her arms, smiling down at him; the boy tugged on her ponytail lightly.

Jonathan took the chance to steer his worried wife out of the kitchen and direct her out the front door. "See you later, Serena!" he called over his shoulder.

Rosalie kept looking back the entire time Jonathan was leading her out to the car. "Are you sure he's okay? Maybe we should double check, just to be sure he doesn't have separation anxiety," said Rosalie anxiously.

"I don't think Alister has that particular problem, but I know someone who does," grumbled Jonathan under his breath.


	141. The Truth

_Because let's face it: we all knew this was coming sooner or later. _

_Set after "Picnics, Old Faces, and Fireworks" and I…well…don't spear me/maim me/hate me forever._

* * *

Alister didn't pay much mind when he heard the garage door open, sparing a glance at the clock and confirming that his earlier suspicions had been correct; Raphael had gone on another date with Ellie and the redhead had guessed that his older friend would be back about ten, and the clock read ten thirty. Misa, who had heard the door open, leapt off her perch on the back of the sofa and bounded out of the room to greet the older man.

The slender biker gave it another couple minutes before he rose to his feet, wondering why Raphael had not announced his presence back home; normally the blond made some kind of salutation that alerted his younger friends that he had come back, but Alister had not heard any such greeting. He turned the television off before rising to his feet, going out to the front hall to investigate.

Raphael was not in the hallway, but the kitchen light was on and Alister made his way in that direction. He couldn't understand what was going on but something obviously was wrong—as he came into the kitchen it was to find his older friend sitting at the table, holding Misa in his hands and looking visibly bothered. He was uncaring of the fact the cat was getting her fur on his slacks, instead allowing her to sit on his lap as he stroked her distractedly.

The red-haired biker frowned, pausing in the doorway to study the man intently. Something had happened, but he wouldn't find out what was wrong until he asked; he cleared his throat to announce his presence and Raphael looked up at him with an expression that he couldn't identify but said nothing.

Deciding that he was not going to get any immediate answers, he went straight to the point with a bluntly asked, "What happened?"

Raphael looked back down to Misa, petting her absently with one of his large hands, but when he replied his voice was even but pained. "I told her."

Alister did not need the blond to elaborate—he already knew what had been discussed. "How did it come up?" he asked wearily, moving to the table and sitting down opposite of his friend.

Raphael let out a hollow laugh. "At the picnic a couple weeks ago she overheard Valon talking to one of Yugi's friends about Dartz and the Orichalcos when she was passing by them to get something from her car. She remembered it and asked me tonight," he said quietly.

"And how much did you tell her?"

The burly man looked up at him with that unidentifiable look on his face. "As much as she needed to hear."

Alister weighed the response before sighing. "That means you told her nothing that would get her to sympathize with you, doesn't it?" he asked with some resignation.

When Raphael said nothing and returned to petting a worried looking Misa, the redhead studied his friend. The blond's silence confirmed his suspicions; Raphael would have told Ellie anything about DOOM but leave out the things that he would deem as "swaying her final decision in my favor", such as the fact that Raphael had been basically tricked into taking the Orichalcos (and that it had been practically possessing him the moment he touched it).

It was infuriating that the man had to be so freaking honor-bound, but it was who Raphael was and there was not anything he could do about the matter now.

"What was her reply to all this?" he said to break the heavy silence.

Raphael did not look up. "She said she needed to think it over and she needed space until she sorted it all out," he recited monotonously, absently scratching Misa under her chin. "I agree with her. She needs to digest everything I told her and she can't do that if I'm around. She'll call me when she's ready to talk."

Alister noted the dejected slump that had entered the man's broad shoulders at this statement and in spite of himself felt something of pity. "It wasn't an outright 'I hate your guts and I think you're insane' reaction, at least," he said bracingly. "There's still a chance."

Raphael let out another humorless laugh. "A very small one," he said bitterly. "But who could blame her if she decides not to stick around? I basically told her that I used to steal souls for a living and almost brought about the Apocalypse—she probably thinks I'm a psychopath now."

"At least you got this out of the way now, rather than get too emotionally invested in each another and then having her find out later," the slender man pointed out flatly. "Whether you like it or not, DOOM is a part of your past. She'll either accept it and stick with you or reject that fact and move on, but in any event you made it clear that it's her choice. You've got that going in your favor, at the very least."

The blond continued to pet Misa silently, that unidentifiable look once again on his face, and then he set her down on the tile floor and rose to his feet. "It's been a long evening and I'm tired. I'm going to bed," he said shortly, leaving the room and going up the stairs. Alister heard the man's bedroom door shut and he leaned back in the wooden chair.

Misa meowed, padding over to the other human and rising onto her hind paws to gaze up at him worriedly. Alister repressed yet another sigh and scooped her into his arms, going back into the family room and sitting back down on the sofa.

Valon came down not too long afterward, looking confused. "Alister, wha's up with Raph?" he asked uncertainly. "I passed 'im on my way down…'e looks like someone shot 'is dog."

The redhead glanced up at him and then gestured vaguely to the armchair. "Have a seat. I'll fill you in."


	142. No One To Blame

_Ah ha ha….y'know, I noticed that quite a few reviews last chapter were asking me, "Did something similar happen with Valon and Shizuka?" _

_…It shames me to admit that there hasn't been such a chapter yet._

_(and no, that question is not the reason for the profile notice I put up a couple days ago)_

_While this isn't the chapter that covers that subject—and in fact, I may not cover that topic entirely in this fic—it does make mention to that event. In any event, I hope you like it and that you're having a good rest-of-the-summer!_

* * *

"—'n' it's all my fault tha' it 'appened!" said Valon furiously, pacing the room with visible agitation. "If I 'adn' said anythin' 'bout DOOM t' tha' Ryou bloke Ellie wouldn' 'ave—"

"You couldn't have known," said Shizuka quietly, her eyes watching her boyfriend from where she was sitting on the sofa. "It's not like you knew she was passing you and said it deliberately."

Valon had surprised the girl by calling her and saying a brusque, "I need t' talk 'n' I can' do it at 'ome," before hanging up and appearing on her doorstep twenty minutes later. Shizuka's mother was out with friends at a movie and Jounouchi had left for home minutes before Valon had called, leaving her alone in the apartment—probably a good thing, seeing how as her boyfriend was visibly distressed.

"I know tha', but it doesn' change anythin'. If Ellie doesn' stick with 'im it'll be b'cause I opened m' big mouth!" he snapped, his accent thickening.

Shizuka frowned. "I don't think Raphael or Ellie will see it like that, Valon. Besides, we all knew this was coming when he started seeing her," she replied. "Not just you and Alister, but I even had to wonder when the subject was going to come up."

"But—!"

"It came up sooner than we all hoped, but it was inevitable. You can't blame yourself," she said firmly.

Valon stared at her before running a hand through his bangs and resumed pacing the room. "I's not just tha', though," he growled a few minutes later. "Ellie's never gonna b'lieve 'im. She prob'ly think's 'e's an escapee from the loony bin!"

"You're making me dizzy, Valon," said Shizuka with fond exasperation, and the older teen flopped angrily on the sofa beside her. She waited for him to resume ranting, but when he said nothing further she reached for one of his hands and held it gently. There was a brief moment of tension before he relaxed and his hand tightened around hers.

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Valon sighed. "I's jus' not fair, y'know?" he said miserably. "I bet Dartz is laughin' at us righ' now from wherever 'e's rottin'."

Shizuka instantly blocked the unpleasant image of a zombie-Dartz from her mind. "I've only met Ellie once, back at New Year's, but based on what I saw of her she seems like the type to take Raphael at his word," she offered placatingly.

Valon snorted. "Then why didn' she accept 'is story right away?"

Shizuka straightened up and reached up to turn Valon's face to her own. A look at the almost green eyes, coupled with the suddenly serious expression on her face, abruptly reminded Valon just whose little sister he was dating. "I didn't exactly accept everything right away either, Valon," she said coolly. "Jounouchi warned me in advance when he found out we were dating. I've also seen things before I met you that, like what you told me about DOOM, were almost impossible to believe. That doesn't mean I wasn't just as flabbergasted as Ellie probably was when Raphael told her."

The brunette grimaced. "I kinda forgot 'bout tellin' you tha', didn' I?" he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head.

Shizuka gave him a small smile before it faded. "Besides, that's not entirely the problem," she said quietly. "Ellie has one more factor to consider."

When Valon shot her a baffled expression, she said patiently, "Whether or not you were being controlled by Dartz, Valon, you still did…well, less than honest things. The same goes for Raphael."

A look of realization dawned on the boy's face and then he groaned. "Aw tha's just perfect. There's no 'ope f'r 'im now, poor fella."

Shizuka noted the slumped posture of her boyfriend before reaching for one of his arms and going under it to wrap her arms around him. "It'll be all right, Valon. You'll see. We'll find out soon enough how it's going to turn out."

Valon let out a hollow laugh. "It can' get any worse, can it?"

The auburn-haired girl opened her mouth to caution against such an observation when the front door opened. She turned her head as familiar footsteps padded toward the room.

"Hey, Shizuka. Sorry to drop in again, but I left my wallet…" Jounouchi trailed off when he saw Valon and his sister on the sofa and promptly scowled. "And he is here at almost midnight when you are by yourself _why?_"

Valon blinked, caught off guard by the other teen's sudden appearance, before a perfectly mischievous expression brightened his features. "B'cause I knew she'd be 'ere, all alone 'n' with no big brother f'r me t' deal with," he said, and to make a point he kissed Shizuka's hand and tugged her closer. The scowl on Jounouchi's features deepened.

"He needed to talk to me about something," Shizuka interjected hastily in an attempt to stave off the impending violence.

The blond teenager studied Valon darkly before tipping his head to the front door. "You've clearly gotten done talking," he said flatly. "Out."

The Australian saluted him and carefully disentangled himself from the hug, rising to his feet and pulling Shizuka with him. "Not quite done, but no worries. I'll come up with an alt'nate way t' talk to 'er."

"You do that," muttered Jounouchi as he went to the coffee table, turning his back on Valon and his younger sister as he picked up the scuffed up wallet resting innocently on it. He turned around again as he put his wallet in his back pocket. "It's bad enough when you're here during the day time, no need for you to be here this late at—_Valon, put my sister down_."

* * *

Valon had nearly forgotten about the initial reason he had gone to his girlfriend (being punched in the face kinda tended to do that), but when he pulled up back at his house he sighed gloomily and leaned on the front handlebars of his motorcycle. He was not looking forward to the next few days—he could bet that Raphael was going to be brooding over the whole incident with Ellie.

He took his helmet off and got off the bike, his hair unfolding from under the helmet with a soft _pop_. As he was rummaging in his pants pocket for the house key, however, his cell phone vibrated and he took it out with a puzzled frown. It was a text message and a quick glance revealed it was from Shizuka.

_Don't blame yourself, Valon. It'll be all right. _

Valon smiled ruefully at the phone. He could only hope that she was right.


	143. Chance

_My internet was flakey and it wouldn't let me into document manager after I updated "Written on Scraps of Notebook Paper". Argh._

_This is a late update, mostly because I had too many ideas on how I wanted this to turn out and it took me a couple days to plan everything out. But, with a little luck and crossed fingers, I have the next chapter out. _

_I hope you like this chapter!_

* * *

Ellie did not call for a couple of weeks.

During that amount of time it was quite obvious Raphael was trying very hard not to take his frustration at the situation out on his friends, but even so there were instances when he snapped at them; after the first day Valon and Alister both decided to lay off the bickering. His mood was not helped by the fact he had caught yet another cold and that at work he kept catching glimpses of Ellie—who, according to Raphael, would not even look at him.

The tension in their home (and around Raphael) increased until it got to the point when Alister finally stormed out of the house and disappeared for an hour on Saturday afternoon, returning with a pint of ice cream and shoving it into his older friend's hands irritably before stalking out of the room.

Raphael had laughed for the first time in days and had given the ice cream to Valon, but the point had been made and some of the tension eased.

Despite Shizuka's assurances, Valon still felt incredibly guilty and this guilt increased every time he caught sight of the burly man. It was one thing for Shizuka to reassure him, but when being confronted with Raphael's visible frustration and (hidden but very much present) gloominess it was hard not to.

Misa did not know exactly what was going on, but every time she caught sight of Raphael she followed after him and she could be found in Raphael's arms or on his shoulder; the cat was determined to try and cheer her owner up as she usually did for each of them, but even those ministrations did little to alleviate the brooding state Raphael was in.

Then, on a late Sunday afternoon two weeks later, Ellie showed up on their doorstep.

* * *

"Alister, quick, get Raph," Valon hissed urgently when he looked through the peephole and saw who had rung their doorbell. "I's Ellie."

The redhead, who was wearing a pair of black jeans and a gray t-shirt (he'd been on his way to the grocery store), immediately disappeared to find the eldest biker while Valon opened the door.

"'ey," he offered quietly, noting the expression on her face.

Ellie gave him a faint smile. The young woman had pulled her hair back and was wearing a dark green collared shirt with a pair of khaki Capri pants, and he heard Sadie let out a greeting bark from her parked car; Ellie must have just taken the puppy to the vet, likely for another tennis ball related emergency, he thought wryly. "Hi…is he here?" she asked awkwardly, brushing her bangs out of her face.

Valon nodded uncomfortably and showed her in. Ellie closed the door behind her and continued fiddling with her hair for a moment longer before glancing at Valon. "Were you a part of…of…?" she began, looking uncertain, but the Australian understood what she was trying to ask and nodded.

"Yep," he said. "So was Alister."

Ellie took in the information with an unreadable expression on her face. "I see," she said simply, saying nothing further.

Valon shifted uncomfortably, uncertain about what he should do, but then he heard Raphael's voice. "Ellie?"

The blond man was looking at her with visible surprise, clearly not expecting her to actually come to the door after two weeks of virtual silence; at least he wasn't in his pajamas and his cold had eased up, Valon decided. The older man was wearing a pair of jeans and a loose fitting t-shirt and he looked about normal, but his voice still carried a hoarseness to it that normally wasn't there—but then again, it could be due to Ellie being in the room.

Alister slipped in the hallway behind Raphael, studying the situation intently with his gray eyes before crossing the hall and grabbing Valon's arm. "We need groceries. Valon and I will get them, and we'll also give Sadie a walk," he announced flatly.

The young woman looked startled. "Oh…you don't—"

"I insist," replied Alister. "The car is unlocked, right?"

Still looking surprised, she nodded faintly. Alister dipped his head in acknowledgement before grabbing Valon's arm and dragging him out the door before the other could properly protest.

Ellie was caught off guard by the abruptness of Alister's actions, but she seemed clearly relieved that now the conversation would be just between the two of them. She cleared her throat, catching Raphael's attention.

"Do you want to sit down?" asked Raphael suddenly, gesturing to the family room behind him.

"I would, actually," she said, slipping out of her sandals and leaving them by the door before padding into the room. She went for the sofa and sat on one end of it; Raphael went to sit in the armchair before Ellie said hastily, "You don't have to sit over there," and patted the space next to her.

The man did sit on the couch, but he sat on the other end of it with one hand on the sofa cushion next to him, looking suddenly tense.

Ellie remained silent for a few minutes, idly scratching Misa's head with her finger (the cat had jumped into her lap and had remained there, purring audibly) before she looked up at Raphael. "I thought it over like you asked me to."

The tension increased in Raphael's shoulders, but he said nothing.

Ellie let out a soft but humorless laugh. "I thought at first that you told me all of this to drive me off because you didn't like me," she said, and a brief flash of indignation lit Raphael's eyes. "But then I realized that you aren't that type of person and that you haven't lied to me before."

She sighed, gently pushing Misa off her lap before looking to Raphael. "I've had two weeks to mull it all over, but there's still a lot I don't understand. In fact, I don't think I'll ever understand everything you told me entirely, no matter how hard I try," she admitted quietly.

She studied her now folded hands briefly and then lifted her brown eyes to make eye contact with him. "You knew what the truth would possibly do and that you could have chosen not to tell me anything since I wouldn't know any different, but you told me anyways. I want to know why."

Raphael met her gaze steadily. "Because not telling you would only end up hurting you in the end," he said seriously. "I can't deny that what I did at Paradius is a major part of my life, and eventually…"

"Eventually I would have found out, whether from someone you knew then or from some other source," she guessed quietly. "I figured you would say that."

Ellie tucked a strand of loose hair back behind her ear before suddenly reaching for Raphael's hand and resting hers on top of it, earning a startled look from the man. "Ellie?" he questioned, and for just a moment there was a hopeful flicker in his eyes before it vanished again.

"I thought everything over, weighed all the facts I got and all the things I'm sure you haven't told me yet, and I came to a conclusion," she said firmly. "Who you were then and who you are now are two separate people. It doesn't magically excuse you from what you did and I'm still unsure about everything you did, but you're genuinely trying to move forward and…"

She moved closer.

"And?" prompted Raphael hesitantly.

"And I'm willing to give you a chance," she replied with a small but genuine smile. "I'm trying to grasp the full extent of what you told me and I know it's not going to be easy, but that doesn't change the fact that I still like you. Besides," she added with a suddenly playful tone, "not many people can claim that they're dating someone who almost brought about the Apocalypse."

* * *

"Aw c'mon, Alister, i's been for_ever_!" snapped Valon impatiently, trying (and failing) to get to the front porch. "Raph 'n' Ellie shoulda sorted it all out by now!"

Alister held him back. "It's only been ten minutes. We need to give them space. They can't talk if we're in the house," he replied matter-of-factly.

"But 'm dyin' t' know wha's goin' on in there, 'n' don' tell me you aren' curious either!" whined Valon, scratching Sadie's ears fondly.

The redhead sighed, eyeing the door with his hands on his hips before he groaned. "All right. I'll go take a look. You stay here," he ordered.

The teenager looked indignant. "'ow come I 'avta stay out 'ere?"

"Because your stealth mode could make an elephant look quiet," he retorted, opening the door and slipping into the house silently.

Valon grumbled but stayed where he was, continuing to pay attention to Sadie. "I am not louder than an elephant," he muttered.

Seconds later Alister reappeared and cautiously shut the door behind him, looking incredibly amused. Valon took this to be a positive sign and asked, "Wha's the verdict?"

Alister continued to look amused. "We're giving them another five minutes before we go back in."

"Why?" asked the teen with confusion. "They still talkin'?"

"No."

"So…wha'? Did they work everythin' out? C'mon, Alister, quit stallin' 'n' jus' tell me wha's goin' on!" Valon growled.

"Tell you what. I'll start a sentence, you finish. Raphael and Ellie, sitting in a tree…"


	144. Discipline

_I had this idea occur to me quite some time ago (back in Raphael's story arc, now that I think about it) but I didn't put it in there because I couldn't find a way to mention it…not to mention that it really didn't fit with what I had going on in that arc._

_Set pre-canon in Raphael's childhood and I hope you are having a good rest-of-the-summer!_

* * *

It was the sound of raised voices that caught Robert's attention and made him look away from his book. His hazel eyes swept across the room and over various unfamiliar objects as they went to the door; he and Lilith were visiting Pierre and Edith at their summer house to get away from the oppressive heat in the city for a couple days and had only gotten here yesterday, so he was still acquainting himself with the layout of the manor they were staying at.

He set his book down and rose to his feet, making his way out into the hallway to investigate. He found the source of the noise in a matter of seconds and started studying the situation immediately, a frown marring his features.

Pierre was standing over both Raphael and Sonia, a stormy expression on his face as he scolded them; seven year old Raphael glared right back up at him, his blue eyes flashing furiously and his hands clenched tightly at his sides; and three year old Sonia was behind her older brother, looking dangerously close to tears. They were gathered around a marble pedestal, at the foot of which was the shattered remains of what used to be a vase. Robert recognized it as one Pierre had been boasting about as being one of the most expensive things he had bought for Edith's birthday.

As he approached them he heard Pierre snap, "—can't believe that you would do such a horrid thing as lie to me, when the culprit is right here herself!"

"But I'm not lying!" insisted Raphael hotly, bristling under the severe look on his uncle's face. Sonia's whimpered sobs increased. "Sonia didn't knock it over. Felicia was up on the pedestal and she knocked it off by accident. I saw her!"

"For the final time quit lying to me," growled his uncle indignantly. "It's unbecoming of a gentleman."

"You aren't being a gentleman yourself!" snapped the boy angrily. "You keep accusing us of doing something we didn't do!"

Pierre's face darkened and his arm moved over his head in a distinctly threatening gesture, clearly intending to hit the child. "You—"

Robert felt his temper flare and he stormed the last three steps to his brother in law, catching the man by the arm and holding it in a vise-like grip. "What is going on here?" he demanded.

The Frenchman jumped at the contact and the children started as well, looking around at their father with visible surprise; Sonia even stopped crying when she saw her father.

Pierre recovered first, the shock sliding away as he gave Robert an affronted glare. "Your daughter broke a valuable vase and her brother is lying to cover it up," he stated firmly.

Raphael, who had shrunken back when his uncle had lifted his hand, stiffened at the accusation. "I am _not_," he said angrily over Sonia's increased wailing. "Neither of us broke the vase!"

"I'm inclined to believe my son, Pierre," Robert concurred frostily. "He's not ever lied to me before and he certainly wouldn't start now."

"Robert?" called Lilith, coming out into the hall to investigate the noise. Her eyes went first to Robert and Pierre before settling on her crying daughter and concern flitted in her blue eyes. "Why, what's happened?" she asked, Edith coming up behind her to see what was going on as well.

"A small accident, love," said Robert, cutting over the beginnings of Pierre's indignant reply. "Could you get Sonia a cookie? She's rather upset—and could you take Raphael with you?" he added as an afterthought, noticing his wife's eyes travel to her tense-looking son. "They might have gotten cut when the vase fell."

"Of course," said Lilith almost immediately, hurrying over and lifting the crying three year old into her arms."Oh you poor thing, did that scare you? There there," she cooed soothingly, rubbing Sonia's back gently. "Come along, Raphael."

The boy glanced up at his father worriedly, but Robert gave him a reassuring smile and tipped his head in the direction of Lilith and Edith. The child looked reluctant but he followed after his mother obediently when she called him again; Edith had begun complaining when she had found out that her vase had been broken and was currently talking to her sister on the matter.

Robert waited until the others were out of sight before dragging Pierre into the nearest empty room. "I need to have a talk with you," he said gruffly, closing the door behind him.

"Let go of my arm first, you're about to break it," retorted the brown-haired man indignantly.

"I don't think I'll do that until I get an answer as to why you tried to hit my child," replied Robert icily.

"Oh come now. He clearly was lying and he even was mouthing off—"

"I could care less if he was. You do not have the right to discipline Raphael, Pierre. If you_ ever_ lift a hand to hit my son again I truly will break your arm," he growled. "Do you understand me?"

Pierre looked like he was going to object, but at the menacing expression on the other man's face he nodded hastily. "I understand."

"Good," said Robert coldly, releasing Pierre and beginning to leave the room. "Glad to know we're on the same page."

"Robert, really, there's no reason to resort to threats!" began Pierre indignantly, eyes flashing in outrage.

Robert, who had gotten to the door before Pierre had spoken (and in fact had a hand on the doorknob), turned back to level a glare at the other man. "I'm not threatening you. I'm stating a fact," he replied darkly as he opened the door. He let that sink in before he left the room, refusing to listen to anything else the man had to say.

He could hear Lilith's soothing voice coming from the kitchen and he followed the sound of her voice, calming down with every passing step. It seemed that Sonia had calmed, judging by the fact he couldn't hear her crying anymore; when he got to the kitchen Sonia and Raphael were giggling at something their mother had said.

Lilith shot her husband a quizzical stare when she caught his eye but he shook his head almost imperceptibly. Although he had gotten his temper under control he was still angry over what had nearly happened and he was in no mood to discuss it in front of Edith or his family—Robert would wait until he and Lilith were alone before relaying what had happened.


	145. Fire

_I'm semi-alive but still feeling under the weather. I hate being sick._

_Seeing how as I'm wretchedly sick and I have my first day back at school coming up, I worked on this off and on for the past few days so I could post it; it's longer than normal but considering that I'm not sure when the next update is coming I figured you guys would appreciate a longer chapter. I blame it on a movie I was watching, ha ha._

_This one is set post-DOOM and I have a poll up (for the first time in a long while) requiring your input :D_

* * *

It was the thin trail of smoke that first alerted him to the fact that something was horribly wrong.

As Valon pulled up in the driveway after an afternoon date with Shizuka, he noticed that Raphael's car was not yet in the driveway and Alister's motorcycle was gone as well; it was safe to assume that his older friends were still at work.

But when his eyes landed on that thin trail of smoke coming from underneath one his neighbor's windows, he felt justifiably concerned. That concern grew into full-blown alarm when the amount of smoke began to increase and changed colors; the almost white smoke turned an ugly black and began rolling in waves from under the window.

Valon got off his motorcycle and stared, horror and surprise meshing together in the pit of his stomach unpleasantly. Images from his childhood began resurfacing and he growled, pushing them away angrily. It had been bad enough seeing the fire that had destroyed the church—he didn't want to remember that day.

He saw a couple of neighbors coming out to investigate the fire and in one elderly woman's hand he saw a telephone. Good, at least someone was calling the fire department.

Abruptly over the roar of the fire Valon heard a child's scream from inside the house and he felt as if he had been doused in ice-cold water.

"Oh God, is there someone in there?" asked one woman in horror.

"How far away is the fire department?" he heard another neighbor ask aloud worriedly as they watched the fire.

"It's a fifteen minute drive on a good day," said a man nearby voice tinged with concern. "But traffic right now is a nightmare, who knows how long it'll take them?"

That cinched it.

Without hesitating a moment longer Valon strode toward the house, half running as he passed the neighbors; he heard them call out to him in some surprise but he ignored them, determined not to lose anyone else to a fire. His hand brushed against the front door knob but he had to let go—it was burning hot. The fire was right there.

He glared at the door angrily before crossing the porch and going to the nearest window, bringing his leg up and kicking the glass in. Smoke immediately began pouring from it and pain ignited from various parts of his leg, but Valon ignored it as he clambered inside.

"Hello!" he called, coughing and squinting against the smoke as his eyes began searching any signs of the child. He shielded himself from the fire as best as he could and inwardly groaned—cargo shorts and a tanktop were not good clothes to go into fires with. "Hey, anyone in 'ere?"

His eyes traveled around him in sweeping arcs, moving everywhere as he searched the room for the child; the roar of the fire prevented him from hearing anything if someone was indeed downstairs and smoke was blinding his vision. He knew the fire was already through most of the downstairs and it would prevent him from searching too far.

"Hey!" he shouted again, coughing violently as he inhaled more smoke. This wasn't good; the fire was rapidly spreading and was already in the room, but from what it looked like it hadn't reached the upstairs yet. The little child could have gone up there once the fire started, he realized.

Steeling himself, he rushed forward and into the flames, gritting his teeth as pain flared along his arms and legs—he could only hope his clothes would not catch fire.

He managed to get to the stairs and took them two at a time. He had a limited amount of time to find whoever was in here before the fire spread to the upstairs and he needed to hurry; he began calling for the girl as he went to the nearest bedroom first, checking under the bed and in the closet.

His search was unsuccessful and he returned to the hallway, searching the next bedroom. By now the smoke was getting thicker and it was getting harder to breathe—he was running out of time.

"C'mon, kid! 'm 'ere t' 'elp ya!" he called again.

At last, he heard a whimper from what appeared to be the master bedroom and he hurried inside. His eyes adjusted to the dim light and he realized that in the corner of the room was a girl who appeared to be about seven, staring wide-eyed at him with a tear-stained face.

"'ey there, kiddo," he said gently, coming over to her and reaching out to her. "'m gonna getcha out, no worries. Is there anybody else in 'ere?"

The girl sniffled but shook her head, immediately clambering into his arms. He adjusted his grip on her as he got to his feet and, after a moment's thought, pulled the blanket off a nearby bed. "Wha's your name?" he asked as he began wrapping the girl inside it.

"Nelly," coughed out the girl, hugging him tightly and burying her face in the crook of his neck.

"'m Valon. Don' you worry, Nelly," he reassured her as he went out of the room, cradling her protectively against his chest. "I've got ya, 'n' I'll getcha back t' your mom 'n' dad. Promise."

The fire had stayed mostly in the stairwell, but already it was beginning to travel up the stairs; as he reached the hallway he saw the beginnings of the fire crawling along the floor. Slightly stumbling, he readjusted his grip before slowly making his way back down the stairs; the smoke was getting thicker and thicker and Valon was having more difficulty in breathing.

As he got back down the stairs he heard a groan and part of the ceiling came away, nearly landing on Valon. Now was the time to get out, he knew. "Almost there, Nelly," he said, hurrying back into the room he'd entered the house from. His vision spun and dipped wildly and he was unable to breathe properly—he had to get Nelly outside before he passed out.

He finally made it back to the window but found an alarming sight: the flames were almost completely blocking it. There was no way for him to get through.

He could hear the people outside and he shouted as loud as he could manage, "'ey! Someone out there 'elp me out!"

A few seconds passed before someone appeared at the window. Valon had no idea who it was (black spots were beginning to cloud his vision) but he grit his teeth and said, "Nelly, love, ya need t' let go. 'm gonna get you out."

The little girl loosened her grip and he smiled down at her scared face. "Good girl," he reassured her as he went to the window, coming as close as he could without endangering them both. Praying he wouldn't pass out, he steeled himself before thrusting the bundle of blankets through the window, trying desperately to ignore the way his arms suddenly flared with pain. "Take the blanket!" he roared.

The weight left his arms and he pulled his arms back and out of the fire. No sooner had he done that when there was an ominous groan and more of the roof collapsed, this time blocking the window entirely—and also effectively eliminating Valon's way out.

Valon began coughing in earnest as he tried to think of what he was supposed to do now. There was a solid wall of fire blocking the front door and the fire was strongest downstairs…that meant he had to get up stairs, where there were windows to open and possible exits.

He stumbled blindly toward the stairs, choking on the smoke and fighting to stay conscious, but he tripped over something and he fell. His head contacted the side of the wall and almost immediately his world went black.

* * *

"…lucky…"

"…smoke inhalation, burns…"

"…he's a hero…"

"…that complete and utter _idiot_."

Valon choked, groaning weakly as he opened his eyes. That last sentence had been enough to pull him out of unconsciousness—he knew that voice all too well.

He appeared to be in an ambulance, he thought dimly, and an orderly was leaning over him. "Good, you're awake," said the young man above him with a relieved expression, shining a flashlight into his eyes. "You got pretty badly burned and you hit your head hard," he continued, starting to treat the burns on his arms.

Valon slowly sat up with the nameless man's assistance, relieved that he was breathing fresh air; someone had put an oxygen mask on and he gratefully took in a lungful of smoke free air. He grimaced as he tasted the smoke in the back of his throat—that was something he could do without, he mused wryly.

When he looked up tiredly it was to find that both Alister and Raphael were looking into the interior of the ambulance. He gave them both a tired grin, unable to say anything at the moment.

Alister took this as his cue to come into the ambulance. His face was smudged with soot for some reason and he was carrying his hands gingerly. "You are the biggest idiot I've ever known," he said without preamble, sitting down on the opposite side of the stretcher Valon was on. Raphael carefully followed after, studying his younger friend intently.

Valon took a few moments to gather his strength, but then he managed a rasping, "'ad t' do it. Li'l girl in there."

"We know," said Raphael quietly. "We heard about that."

The Australian suddenly remembered Nelly and sat up straighter, trying to gather his strength to ask another question, but the doctor beat him to it. "The little girl's fine, she's with her parents. She only has a few minor burns," he said reassuringly.

Valon sagged in relief. "Good," he rasped, wincing at the sound of his voice. "Glad t' 'ear she's okay."

And then without warning he passed out again.

* * *

"You got really lucky that you weren't burned worse," said Raphael, watching as Valon scowled at the bandages on his arms.

"Yeah, well, they still friggin' 'urt," he said hoarsely, glaring at the offending appendages angrily. "'N' I don' see why I 'avta stay in the 'ospital overnight."

Alister rolled his eyes. "You did pass out and you inhaled a lot of smoke," he pointed out flatly as he adjusted the bandages on his hands. "Besides, I'm not letting you leave until I'm sure you aren't going to die on us."

"'m not gonna die," retorted Valon with a scowl. "I already tried t' do tha' earlier 'n' decided it wasn' my cup o' tea."

The teenager sobered and he glanced at his older friends. "'ave any o' you 'eard wha' 'appened t' Nelly?" he asked seriously, remembering the little girl.

Raphael replied first. "I did. I also found out how the fire got started," he began. "Apparently Nelly's parents are both working ones and they have someone watching their daughter during the day, but the babysitter had to leave early today."

"So…'ow did tha' start the fire?"

"The babysitter forgot that she had been making something on the stove and walked out the door while Nelly was down for a nap; Nelly's mother was already on her way home when the babysitter left," Alister said grimly. "The family is staying at a nearby hotel for now…that reminds me, Nelly's parents want to talk to you when you get out."

"Wha' for?" he asked with a startled expression.

"It couldn't possibly be because you saved their daughter's life," said the redhead sarcastically. He rose to his feet and went toward the exit, wincing as his hands inadvertently brushed against the door. "I'll be right back."

Valon waited until his friend had left the room before directing his attention to Raphael. "Wha' 'appened t' Alister's 'ands?" he asked, deciding that now was the best time to ask. "I noticed it earlier, but I didn' get t' ask 'im."

Raphael, who had been getting a glass of water from the sink, looked back at him. "He got home early and found out about the fire about the same time that you got the girl out. When he heard you were inside the house and that you were still inside he went in after you; he burned his hands while helping you," he explained. "I came back just as he was pulling you out of the house and just as the fire department arrived."

Valon stared back in surprise. "'e saved me? 'ow come 'e didn' say anythin'?"

Raphael arched an eyebrow expectantly and the other biker understood. "Righ', I forgot. I's Alister we're talkin' about," he said exasperatedly. "'e doesn' like attention."

He paused for a moment and then groaned. At Raphael's questioning expression Valon said, "Does savin' Nelly mean I 'avta talk t' the reporters?"


	146. I Didn't Do It On Purpose

_First update in a week and it had to be on _this_ topic? *sighs and mutters about insane bunnies*_

_Anyways, I'm feeling loads better after spending a weekend sleeping in and huddling under Patches (my uber special blanket…there is a story behind its name, haha). I should be better by this weekend, fingers crossed._

_Set during DOOM (after "Desert Days and Snakes" and they're at the same location as said chapter) and I do have a notice up on my profile, so please go check it out :D_

* * *

Alister stared down at his bleeding wrist in disdain. "Crap."

He looked around on the marble countertops for a stray dishtowel or some napkins after he set the remnants of the broken glass on the counter, all the while muttering furiously as he put his hand over his wrist to try and stop the bleeding. When his search yielded nothing he swore softly under his breath and began going through the drawers in an attempt to find something that would staunch the flow of blood.

It had _not_ been his fault. He'd been doing dishes by hand because the dishwasher had broken down and had been washing out a glass when the stupid thing shattered in his hand; Alister knew it wasn't his fault because it had been Valon's turn to empty the dishwasher last night and he never put glasses away gently, instead slamming them into the cupboard and sometimes cracking them—which was the best explanation as to why the glass had randomly broken when he'd been washing it.

His search through the drawers yielded nothing and he swore a little more sharply, glaring at his wrist before something caught his eye and he glanced at the linoleum tiles under his feet. He was bleeding everywhere—fantastic.

Alister lifted up his hand to look down at the injury, wondering if he needed to go to the doctor for it. The slice—though not deep enough to worry him—did run along the base of his hand, across his wrist and extending up his thumb; it was not a fatal wound, but it was an inconvenient one and one that was likely to—

"_Alister!"_

—give people the wrong impression.

The redhead looked up and directed his gaze to the kitchen door, where Valon was staring at the older biker with a completely horrified expression. "Crap," Alister repeated flatly, turning his back on Valon to resume his search. Let the boy think what he would, but he had more pressing matters to deal with—such as, oh, _stopping the blood flow._

Valon stormed into the kitchen. "What'd you do this for?" he demanded hotly, reaching out to grab Alister's wounded wrist.

The redhead glared and pulled his hand away from the boy. "I didn't do it on purpose, if that's what you're wondering," he retorted coldly. "I was washing dishes and a glass broke in my hand."

Valon clearly seemed unconvinced as he studied his companion intently. The red-haired man scowled, deciding it wasn't worth his effort to convince the Australian otherwise and resumed his search; he could only hope that Valon would not mention this to either Master Dartz or Gurimo, since he was certain he'd never have a moment's privacy afterward. He was lucky that Gurimo wasn't even in the safehouse at the moment, instead running an errand, but he did hope that the injury was taken care of before the older man returned.

He didn't hear the teen leave, but as he turned to exit the kitchen he found that Raphael was now entering the room with a first aid kit and a paper towel roll in hand. "Valon came and got me," the blond offered in explanation as he set the items down on the counter.

Alister padded over to the other biker and opened the box open with his good hand, beginning to rummage inside it awkwardly. "Did he now?" he said testily.

"Yeah. He said you had an accident in here and you were bleeding all over the place," said Raphael evenly, handing him an antiseptic wipe.

The slender man actually paused. "He said that?" he asked, startled. He had expected Valon to accuse him of deliberately injuring himself, but apparently the boy had not said anything like that to Raphael.

Raphael seemed to have guessed what Alister was thinking. "He thought that at first you'd done it on purpose, given where you got cut," he admitted, handing Alister some gauze and then getting out an Ace bandage. "But he said that he saw the glass on the counter, so I'm thinking he doesn't entirely believe you cut yourself deliberately."

"Do you?"

"If you say you didn't do it on purpose then why should I question it?" Raphael countered.

"…Huh."

Alister placed the gauze on his wrist and began wrapping the bandage clumsily around his wrist. It looked as if he had underestimated Valon again, he mused; he had thought that Valon would have instantly judged him, but based on what he'd just heard Alister had to admit that the younger biker was not nearly so shallow.

Raphael rolled his eyes and reached out, taking the bandage from the redhead. "You can ask for help, you know," he said, redressing the wound expertly.

One of the redhead's eyebrows arched. "When did you learn how to bandage this type of injury?" he inquired once Raphael had finished, gingerly testing the bandage by flexing his hand. It was a bit too tight but it was an easily remedied problem.

"Raph prob'ly picked it up from watchin' you 'r from some kinda program on the telly," said Valon suddenly as he came into the room, startling his older companions. "'e's got an insane mem'ry."

"I'll keep that in mind," said Alister curtly, walking over to the trash can before picking it up with his uninjured hand. He set it by the counter before carefully sweeping the broken base of the glass into the trash can. He debated on sticking his hand in the sink and risking cutting himself just so he could drain the water out; he had no doubt that there were glass shards in the water.

"Alister?"

The red-haired man blinked, turning when he heard Valon's sheepish voice. The boy was shifting uncomfortably in place, not entirely looking at him. "'m sorry 'bout earlier. I thought you'd…y'know…" he began awkwardly.

Alister rolled his gray eyes. "Don't apologize for a somewhat justified reaction. It was an honest assumption that anyone would make if they saw me like you did," he replied flatly. "For future reference, though, I don't fancy the idea of cutting myself deliberately."

The Australian visibly relaxed. "Good," he declared, coming over and cuffing Alister's shoulder. "Now, I came in 'ere f'r some ice cream 'n' I'm gonna get some," he continued, bounding over to the freezer.

Deciding that he was no longer needed (he'd only remained long enough to make certain that his younger friends would not start an argument on the topic), Raphael picked up the first aid box and began to leave the room. Before he left, though, he looked over his shoulder at Alister. "You may want to clean up the floor. Gurimo probably might not appreciate the blood on it," he pointed out.

Alister snorted derisively. "Knowing him he'll probably spout some nonsense about leaving behind DNA evidence for the police to use against us. Like they'll ever find this place, anyways," he said, grabbing a paper towel and getting to his knees to clean the floor.

"Kuriboh's a bit paranoid, isn' 'e?" Valon commented, dishing up another scoop of chocolate ice cream into his bowl.

Alister glanced up at him with raised eyebrows. "No, really? I hadn't even noticed," he replied sarcastically.


	147. We've Got Answers

_Okay, guys, here it is: the questions you all asked me are in this chapter :D_

_In compliance with FanFiction guidelines, I made each of the questions into different FanFiction prompts and answered them as mini-ficlets. There will not be another chapter like this one, but I at least addressed some of the more commonly asked questions :)_

_I hope these adequately answer the questions; remember, if you don't see yours in this chapter I'll be replying to them via a PM, so don't panic, haha :D_

* * *

**Why doesn't Alister have a girlfriend?**

Raphael arched an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be asking him that?"

Valon returned the skeptical look his older friend was shooting him from where he was sitting on the floor. "'n' risk gettin' my 'ead chopped off 'n' melded t' the 'andlebars of my motorcycle? No thanks."

Raphael stared.

"Anyways, isn' 'e lonely?" asked Valon persistently. "I mean, I've got Shizuka 'n' you 'ave Ellie, but poor Alister's got no one."

"He prefers it that way," said Raphael with a shrug, recovering from his temporarily stunned state. "He's had a conversation with me before on the subject."

At Valon's expectant look Raphael set his book down. "He told me that he's perfectly content being single and he doesn't want all the emotional drama having a girlfriend would bring. What else are you looking for?" the blond asked.

"I know 'e's sayin' tha' now, but do you think 'e'll get a girlfriend later?"

"In his own words: 'I spent the first twelve years of my life in a war watching everyone I know getting blown apart, shot to death, stabbed, poisoned, captured and tortured, or otherwise vanish. I then spent the next eight years basically plotting someone's murder and suppressing all of my emotions. Do you honestly believe that at this point in time I'll be able to settle down with a woman, based on those facts?'"

The Australian nodded slowly. "I s'ppose 'e wouldn'…poor fella."

"He's assured me he's happy being single and he made that point perfectly clear."

Raphael paused, and then he directed a dubious look to Valon. "Now I have a question for you: what on earth prompted Alister to threaten to meld your head to your motorcycle?"

* * *

**What does their neighborhood look like? Besides the Ishtars, do they interact with their neighbors (Valon pranking them doesn't count)?**

Valon blinked when he got to the mailbox to get mail and suddenly found a weight attached to his waist. "Wha' the…oh! Nelly!" he said, startled when he looked down and found the girl hugging him. "Wha're you doin' 'ere?"

"Mommy and Daddy are checking our house to see if we can rebuild it. They said our in…insoorance might cover it," said Nelly in a matter-of-fact tone. She blinked and frowned, her green eyes narrowed slightly in thought. "But I don't know why insoorance people would cover our house with a blanket."

Valon laughed. "Tha' seems pretty silly, don' it?"

Nelly caught sight of the bandages on his arms and her face fell. "Do your arms hurt, Mister Valon?"

The boy grinned, lifting her into the air easily (and ignoring the way his arms throbbed) and doing a little spin. The girl giggled when he set her down again.

"See? No worries, Nells. I'm good t' go," he said brightly. "Now, le's see 'ow the insurance people are gonna cover your house."

oOoOoOoOo

The sun was barely coming up when Alister went out to get the newspaper that morning. There was a bite to the cool autumn air that made him shiver slightly, but since he was in sweatpants it did not bother him that much.

As he reached the end of the drive he noticed a pair of morning joggers passing by. He recognized them as a young couple that lived in a moderately nice house at the left corner of the cul-de-sac they lived in; most of the houses in the small cul-de-sac were either older models that had been there since the neighborhood had first been built, modern buildings that had been put up only months ago, and houses like theirs, which was a combination of both.

He paid the two people no mind as he picked up the newspaper and was on his way back inside when he heard a chipper, "Good morning, Miss!"

Alister stopped walking and turned, glaring at the man who had spoken with a look that made the jogger take a step back. "I'm not a Miss," he said coldly, turning on his heel and stalking back into the house without another look back.

oOoOoOoOo

Raphael was getting into his car to go meet Ellie that afternoon when he heard a timid, "Excuse me, sir."

He turned, his eyes landing on an elderly woman on the other side of the small fence lining the yard. "Is there something I can help you with?" he asked, pausing and moving slightly away from the car.

"Well, I was wondering…I have this bag of gravel for my garden and my husband dropped it off earlier, but then he went to a golf game and left the bag right in the middle of my driveway. I need to go to the store, and…well, I hate to impose, but…"

"You want me to move it," he guessed good-naturedly.

"Would you?" she asked.

"Of course," he replied amicably, already heading over into the other driveway. He didn't notice the startled expression on her face, nor did he realize that now there was one less neighbor who was intimidated by his appearance.

* * *

**Why did you choose to have such a lack of detail involving Valon's parents, aside from canon restraints?**

Kohaku sighed. "This is an interesting question, to say the least. I mean, I could have mentioned more about Valon's mom and dad and it's only been recently when I finally got an idea of what Valon's dad looked like; I have fanart of it up on LiveJournal, for those who haven't seen it yet. Even so, I'm STILL on the fence on what he honestly looks like and I couldn't even tell you his name or what his personality is like."

She frowned, mulling over her choice of words before she spoke hesitantly. "I guess…the reason I gave Valon such a lack of a background is because of what his parent's story is. I felt that I didn't need to delve into it too much, considering that the story of Celeste was powerful enough on its own. It just…didn't feel right to add to the story and to say more would have detracted from its impact.

"Hopefully that makes sense," she finished sheepishly, running a hand through her bangs and brushing them out of her eyes. "And if not, I can reply in a PM."

* * *

**Where is Dartz living now and what does he do?**

He pulled the dark cloak closer around him as he trudged through the snow, grateful that the blizzard had abated enough for him to continue on his way. He'd been forced to stop to at a nameless inn until the weather had cleared up; he had no idea where he was, but since he never stayed anywhere for long he never bothered learning where he was at any given point.

He stepped through the snow lightly, walking through and pushing a few stray pine branches away. Ahead of him he spotted a small group of hikers who were braving the weather, their laughter trailing down the path as they came toward him. He rolled his eyes but continued forward, pushing his way through the crowd silently.

One of them, a young woman with curly brown hair and a pair of glasses framing her blue eyes, turned and said, "The path that way is snowed over! We're coming back from there."

He paused, looking at her over his shoulder and arching an eyebrow at her. "Your point?"

The woman stared at him. "Are you crazy? You aren't seriously going up there, are you?"

"It isn't your business what I do," he replied bluntly, looking forward as he advanced along the path. "I have things to do…events to atone for…and therefore, I have to keep going regardless of the obstacles."

He felt her disbelieving stare on his back but he kept walking forward, never turning around.

Dartz hardly cared what her opinion of him was. He had things he needed to do.

* * *

**Where do Raphael and Ellie work?**

Raphael made a face as he stared at the computer. "Is there some place I can work that doesn't forcibly remind me of being that one guy from that Pixar movie?" he asked, scrolling down the page with a mildly irritated expression.

Alister looked over the top of the motorcycle magazine he had been reading with an amused expression. "Don't work at an insurance company then," he commented idly. "Although, we'd probably get a benefit out of it because of Valon."

At Raphael's raised eyebrows the redhead said, "With half the stuff he does by accident we could use the insurance."

The blond contemplated this thought for a moment, and then sighed as he clicked on the link. There didn't seem to be any other job openings and at this point he'd take what he could get.

* * *

**Do the bikers have educational backgrounds?**

"Would I be skippin' school right now? I mean, I'm underage 'n' I don' 'ave my diploma or anything," commented Valon, flopping onto the sofa and looking up at his older friends curiously.

Alister did not look up from his book. "Considering that the most schooling you ever had were a combination of impromptu lessons from Raphael and a week of private teaching from some hack Dartz hired, not really."

"Does tha' make me dumb, then?"

"More so than normal."

Valon scowled at the red-haired man indignantly. "Raph, tha's not true, is it?" he asked demandingly, raising his voice so that the eldest of his friends could hear him from the kitchen.

"No," called Raphael wearily from where he was in the other room. "You weren't in DOOM long enough to go through Dartz's private schooling program, but Alister and I were."

"So you blokes have high school diplomas?" inquired the Australian with a tilt of his head, rearranging himself so that he was sitting upside down on the couch. "I didn' know tha'."

"We also have bachelor's degrees," said Alister with a careless shrug. "Dartz figured that in case the cops ever got suspicious and looked into the matter it would be best if Raphael and I had as much schooling as possible."

"So…wha' do I 'ave, then?" asked Valon curiously. "Do I 'ave anythin' like tha'?"

"You have a high school diploma as well, but nothing else; the hack who you claimed wasted a week of your life gave you a high school crash course and at the end administered a test to get you a diploma. I'm guessing Dartz figured that there wasn't enough time to get you through and arranged it so that you could have something in case someone investigated the matter," replied Alister boredly.

"So tha' makes me super smart," said Valon smugly, rolling up to sit properly and puff his chest out proudly.

"Not really. You still act like a moron half the time," retorted Alister, returning to his book and pointedly ignored his friend's indignant splutters.

* * *

**What would happen if Alister and Valon had to host Shark Week?**

"Hi. Welcome to Shark Week," said Alister boredly as he faced the camera, his expression disinterested as he reclined himself further back into the beach chair. "I know you're expecting me to be all social, but really. We're watching a bunch of carnivorous fish swimming around and we'll be showing programs that either claim sharks are vicious man-eaters or they're being set up. Nothing much to say, really."

Raphael sighed. "Alister, come on. A little enthusiasm would go a long way," he stated, looking around him with a slight frown marring his features. "And anyway, I thought Valon was supposed to be hosting this. Where is he?"

"Oh, I set him up with an interactive session with a couple of sharks. He's probably so engaged he forgot to come back. He's over by the docks," replied the other man with a shrug.

The blond's frown deepened as he looked over to the docks. "Define interactive. With you that could mean almost…Alister_, _tying Valon up and then dangling him over a shark tank is _not_ an appropriate form of entertainment."


	148. Tough

_…_The Duelist's Heiress_, I tried to write your request. Really, I did. But then I got this random bunny instead, and it isn't even the pairing you asked for. I'm sorry D;_

_Set post-DOOM and I hope you all enjoy this! _

_PS: My bunnies have been churning over several fluffy couple!shots for the better part of three days. Therefore, as a general warning, expect to see a couple more couple-theme chapters coming at you - one of which is the one you asked for, TDH._

* * *

In his defense, Valon had been minding his own business when he'd been out running an errand for Raphael.

He'd been passing by an alleyway to get to the grocery store when he heard the snickers from some teenagers. He had paused, then had backtracked to survey the small group gathered at the back of the alley; they had clearly cornered someone back there, judging by their body posture and their sneers.

Valon's arms were still wrapped in bandages from the fire he'd been in and they were quite tender, so in a rare "think before you leap" moment he had decided the best course of action was to go get someone inside the store for help.

He'd been about to go inside when a very familiar girl's voice rang out, "Don't touch me!"

Valon instantly backpedaled, rushing down the alley and roughly shoving his way through the six gang members to put himself between them and the auburn haired girl they'd cornered, blue eyes blazing. "'ey, Shizuka," he greeted when he had positioned himself, sparing the frightened but steely eyed girl behind him a comforting smile. "I was jus' thinkin' 'bout you."

The girl looked clearly relieved to see him; she was wearing a blue short sleeved dress with a pair of black leggings and flats. She'd told him earlier she would be meeting some friends at the mall for a movie, but Shizuka had either been on her way there or on her way home when the gang had cornered her. He was not pleased to note that the skirt of the dress was actually torn in the corner.

One of the four teens in front of them, a thin but muscular one with a badly dyed green Mohawk and multiple piercings in his eyebrow, stepped forward authoritatively. "Who're you?" he asked snidely.

"Jus' a bloke out mindin' 'is business, though 'm a little annoyed you've cornered my girlfriend," replied Valon cheerfully, though his eyes remained focused on the teen and there was a very distinct threatening light in the cerulean orbs.

"Aw, don't be jealous, Aussie," sneered the other teen in reply. "We just wanted to ask your girl a question."

"'n' I bet the li'l lady asked you to leave," he retorted coldly. "Judging on 'ow ugly you are, I bet you frightened 'er. News flash, 'alloween's next month."

The green-haired punk's dark eyes darted to the bandages on Valon's arms with a calculating expression and Valon snorted. "Easy there, chum," he said amicably. "I don' need t' start a fight with a lady present. I's not proper manners, y'know."

Abruptly the green-haired teenager rushed forward, trying to punch him. The brunette did not even move from his position in front of Shizuka, instead catching the boy's outstretched fist and tightening his grip on his opponent's hand; there was a slight twinge of pain in his arm, but he was pleased to note that it had not entirely hurt.

The Australian kept the easy-going smile on his face. "'ey now," he said, pushing the kid back. "I jus' told you I didn' want any trouble. 'm jus' gonna get my girlfriend 'n' leave you fellas alone to go terrorize someone else."

"Yeah, we'll go bother someone else—after we deal with you!" snarled the kid as he lunged forward again.

Valon growled. "Don' say I didn' try t' stop ya!" he retorted. Catching the boy's fist yet again he snarled, yanking the teen forward and driving his knee into the other's solar plexus. The punk let out a whining groan and sank to his knees on the ground.

"This's 'bout t' get ugly, Shizuka," he murmured tersely, his eyes darting around him at the suddenly murderous looking group. "I'll see if I can't draw all their attention 'n' get them to come after me. You keep yourself back when that 'appens—your brother'd murder me if you got 'urt 'n' tha' dress of yours is too pretty to get all ripped up. I want you t' wear it on our next date," he finished with a half smile.

Before Shizuka could protest to this idea the boy on the ground wheezed out, "Get him!" and the other gang members suddenly converged on them; Valon surged forward. He darted in and out of the small crowd, throwing punches left and right while keeping his girlfriend in his peripheral vision.

These punks didn't know how to fight at all, Valon soon realized with disgust; they were swinging clumsy fists and poorly aimed kicks at him. He held back some of his harder punches as he proceeded to beat them down—no reason to go all out when they didn't even know how to properly throw a punch and his arms hurt anyways.

Valon frowned when he only counted three gang members he was fighting. He knew about the kid he'd initially taken down, but where had the other two gone off to? Had they run off with their tails between their legs when—

Valon heard it before he saw it and ducked the knife that narrowly missed his face.

The first teenager who Valon had defeated, the one with that atrocious green hair, had pulled a knife out and was switching it from hand to hand expertly; Valon noticed that it was not as big a knife as Raphael had used to carry, but it was pretty close in size. "Well now what are you going to do, Aussie?" he sneered. "Can you take down a knife with your bare hands? I bet you can't, you smug son of a—"

There was a metallic clang and his opponent let out an odd sounding moan before his eyes rolled up into his head and dropped to the ground. Valon blinked in confusion at this, then stared in utter disbelief when he realized who had knocked the green haired punk out.

Shizuka was standing over the fallen teenager, a pipe in hand. Her face was flushed and pale all at once, but her expression was hard and her eyes were flashing in outrage. Behind her, two boys were lying in crumpled heaps on the ground, holding their heads and moaning.

Valon suddenly did not have trouble remembering that this was Jounouchi's sister.

"I've already taken out three of you with this," Shizuka snapped with only the slightest waver in her voice, directing her glare at the remaining gang members. "Anyone else want to try their luck?"

Not having expected such a fight from their would-be victims, the three standing thugs hastily beat their retreat, pausing only to help their friends to their feet before continuing on their way; one of them had to awkwardly sling their leader over their shoulder before scurrying away as well.

Valon did not watch them go, instead hurrying to Shizuka's side; the girl had dropped the pipe the moment the gang had started running and she was staring blankly after them, the little color in her cheeks rapidly fading—there was a very real danger of her passing out.

"Shizuka? Look at me, love," he said firmly, gently steering her face to his. He was unsettled by the fact that her green eyes were standing out in her too-pale face. "You okay? Did they 'urt you?" he asked, his eyes sweeping over her quickly.

She shook her head a bit too violently and then let out an oddly hysterical giggle. "No. I didn't let them touch me," she said shakily in that same hysterical voice, her eyes alarmingly over bright.

Valon pulled her into a hug and she relaxed, her arms snaking around his waist as she promptly began to sob into his shirt; when her legs threatened to give out beneath her he scooped her into his arms and carried her out of the alleyway, ignoring the way his arms protested. "I've got you, love," he murmured reassuringly. "We'll go inside 'n' call your brother, 'n' I'll wait 'ere with you 'til 'e comes."

Shizuka nodded miserably and then buried her face in the crook of his neck. Her hair tickled the side of his face and his neck was steadily getting wetter by the second, but that did not matter to him in the slightest.

It wasn't until they were at the store entrance when she mumbled something into his neck and he jumped, twitching at the odd sensation. "What'd you say, Shizuka?" he asked, looking down at her.

Shizuka looked back up at him. A small patch of color had returned to her cheeks and her green-gray eyes were lit with tired amusement. "I said I'm going to have to get my mom to fix this dress before our next date. I can't very well leave it like this," she said, gesturing down at her dress vaguely.

Valon let this sink in and then he grinned. "You better. This color's righ' pretty on you 'n' I bet the dress'd be even prettier without tha' silly tear in it," he concurred, pushing the door open with one foot easily and stepping into the store.


	149. Pajamas and Dinners

_MUAHAHAHA._

The Duelist's Heiress, _I have your request. I managed to make my bunnies work on it after a bit of playing around on the computer, and so I have it :D_

_Set pre-canon and I hope you enjoy this!_

* * *

Rosalie blamed her shoes.

She blamed the wretched high-heeled sandals that she'd bought for her first date. Never mind the fact Rosalie had never worn such shoes—she'd had no idea how to walk in them. But her mother liked to point out that practice made perfect, and so she decided to practice walking in them.

It was this decision that landed Rosalie in the hospital with a broken ankle the day before her date.

She scowled at her injured ankle irritably and sank even further into the sofa cushions, folding her arms over her chest and glaring at the bulky cast with ill-suppressed venom. Of all the ways to break a bone it had to be while walking in shoes that she hadn't even liked; the doctor treating her had tried not to look too amused as he had started setting her ankle once he'd heard how she had broken it.

The worst part of the whole ordeal was not her broken ankle, however—it was the fact that Rosalie had to cancel her date because of it. How was she supposed to walk around in a great, hulking cast? The restaurant she'd been going to had narrow aisles and difficult corners to maneuver; she'd spend half the date worrying about whether or not her ankle would be jostled.

The worst part of _that_ was the fact her date would have been with Jonathan.

Rosalie had spent weeks—no, _months—_planning this. She'd carefully planned out how she would casually drop a hint about that new restaurant opening up, how to get Jonathan to take her there…and he'd actually said yes. He had said _yes_ to her and to the idea of it being a date (and here Rosalie still got the giggles).

But none of that mattered now, she decided as her shoulders slumped. She was stuck in this stupid cast and any hopes of getting Jonathan to go on another date with her had flown out the window—he was a good-looking boy and lately she'd spotted other girls in their class eyeing him. He'd likely go out with one of them and she would not get another chance.

"Rosie, dear, your father and I are going to a movie tonight. Do you need anything before I go?" asked her mother as she peered around the doorframe at her daughter.

Rosalie glared. "I told you before not to call me Rosie," she muttered, though it was a half-hearted effort to correct her mother. "And no. I'll manage."

The older woman studied her daughter pityingly. "Oh Rosie, you know he isn't going to hold this against you," she said gently. "Jonathan was quite understanding about the whole thing when he heard what happened."

"I bet he was laughing at me too," Rosalie retorted, readjusting her position gingerly on the sofa.

"We both know he wouldn't," said her mother comfortingly as she left the room. "And you should get out of those pajamas, Rosie. You've been wearing them all day," she called from the front hall. "You never know who'll show up at the door."

Rosalie grumbled and looked down at her light green pajamas; she liked them so much because they were baggy and loose, not to mention that the pink rabbits on them offered her small comfort. She heard her father call a goodbye to her as well before the front door shut, leaving her in the silence of the house; she decided that she would see what was on the television and reached for the remote, clicking the device on and then trying her hardest to focus on the first mundane program she came to (and not on her botched date).

Twenty minutes later a knock on the door brought her out of her thoughts and she reached for her crutches. "Coming!" she called, taking a moment to get the crutches comfortably situated before making her way to the door. "Just a minute!"

She arrived at the door after a bit of finagling (her own house had some tricky corners to maneuver around) and unlocked it, wondering who it could be; probably some door to door salesman, she thought as she pulled open the—

"Somehow, I'm not as surprised as I should be that you have rabbits on your pajamas."

Rosalie's mouth dropped open.

Jonathan was standing on her front porch, wearing a t-shirt and jeans; he was carrying a plastic bag in one hand, while the other was holding a small bouquet of daisies and other flowers. "These are for you," he continued as he handed her the flowers, easily moving past her and into the house.

Rosalie took them from him dazedly. "Jonathan…what…what are you doing here?" she stammered, finding her voice at last as she closed the door.

"I would have thought that would have been obvious with the flowers," he replied, arching an eyebrow at her. "I'm taking you out on a date."

She stared.

"Well, more like I'm making you dinner and we're staying here," he amended. "Your parents told me you couldn't navigate corners and narrow aisles, and I'm a pretty good cook myself, so I asked if I could do this instead. Besides, you sounded absolutely miserable when you called me," he added. "I'm not going to let a broken ankle ruin our first date."

Rosalie's eyes started to water and she looked at the flowers in an attempt to hide it from Jonathan. "I'm glad you see it that way," she said thickly.

There was a pause. "Rosie, don't tell me you're going to start bawling in your pajamas."

She blinked, and then realized that _ohmigod I'm still in my PJ's and my date is here._ She let out a startled squeak and started hobbling for her bedroom. "Don't call me that, and I'll be right back!" she called over her shoulder, feeling absolutely mortified as she vanished into her room.

Jonathan shook his head in amusement as he watched her go. "Rosie, do I get to be the first person to sign your cast?" he called down the hall.

The closed door opened again and Rosalie's flustered face peered out at him. "Not if you don't stop calling me Rosie!" she said, disappearing again.

Jonathan raised an eyebrow at that. "So if I address you by your proper name you'll let me sign your cast?" he asked.

This time Rosalie didn't come out of her room. "Yes!"

"All right then, Rosalie. I'll start dinner," he replied, going into the kitchen with a smirk on his face—he could not call her Rosie outright, but she hadn't said anything about writing it on her cast.


	150. I Hate Snakes

_Because my brother read over this story and said, "Everything seems to happen to Valon, KoK. How about someone else gets into some mind-boggling situation for a change?"_

_…That statement plus some more Animal Planet and musings on my bunny's part are to blame for this. I have _got _to start watching some other channels._

* * *

Marik and Valon both jumped when the cell phone on the table began ringing, identical puzzled frowns marring their features. The Australian reached for it, his own frown deepening when he noticed the caller ID. "Alister?" he said cautiously when he answered it, motioning for the other teen to turn the movie down.

His frown deepened as he listened to whatever Alister was saying. "You movin' furniture or somethin? You sound outta breath—yeah, 'm at Marik's 'ouse…no, Rishid's at the museum with Marik's sister…you need me t' come back? Why?"

The boy winced. "Okay, okay. 'm comin' back—geez, no need t' yell in m' ear."

As Valon hung up the other teenager asked, "What's going on?"

"I dunno. 'e jus' said t' come back 'ome. You don' mind me goin', do you?"

"I don't," said Marik, baffled as to what was going on as he set Bastet down. "I'm sure that whatever's happened is pretty urgent, if he's calling you."

The Australian shook his head as he exited out the front door of the house. He had to admit that he was fairly curious as to what his older friend wanted; Alister rarely called Valon at all (in fact, this was the first time since DOOM that Alister had called his cell phone). The redhead had been catching a nap in the window seat when the boy had left, the window opened to let some fresh air in; Valon had known better than to disturb him, so he had tiptoed out the front door.

He wondered what sort of reason would prompt the aloof man to call him home. What on earth could have happened?

* * *

Five minutes later, Valon got his answer."Alister, how…?" he began, uncertain as to what he was supposed to do in this situation.

The redhead glared at him before returning his attention to the large python that was coiled around him; the reptile had wrapped its body around his torso and had pinned his left arm to his side. "Do you think I know anything?" said the redhead in a strained voice, eyeing the snake dispassionately. "I woke up to some hissing noise next to my ear and the next thing I know I'm on the floor with a python wrapped around me."

The teenager bit his lip, at a loss as to what he should do. "Shouldn' you try to struggle 'r somethin'?" he asked.

Alister shifted, his breath coming in a sharp gasp as the snake tightened its grip. "If that was an option, I would have done it by now; this thing just adjusts its grip whenever I move," he said in a would-be calm tone of voice. "Besides, I figured that aggravating a large reptile would not be in my best interests," he continued, slowly trying to shove the snake down his chest. Its grip tightened again and this time it let out a warning hiss.

Misa meowed disconsolately from where she was hiding under the couch, emerald eyes watching the snake uneasily. The cat had likely seen the snake first, but she would have been nothing but an appetizer had she stuck around to examine the serpent further.

"So…'ow am I s'pposed t' get it off you?" asked Valon, looking uneasily at the snake. "You keep tellin' me tha' you can' move…"

"That's what you're here for," replied Alister, growling when the snake's coils tightened around him again. "You need to go around and—ow! Stupid snake—see who's lost a python so they can reclaim it."

"Should I call Raph? Maybe 'e'd know what t' do f'r ya."

"If it wasn't for the fact he's out with Ellie I would tell you to go ahead," grunted Alister, using his free hand to nudge the snake's head away gently when it came too close to his face. "I suggest you hurry up—I don't know how much longer I can take this thing crushing me."

As it turned out, it took nearly ten minutes before Valon finally found the neighbor in question who owned the snake and returned with them in tow; the older man was in rumpled clothes and claimed to be some sort of scientist (and the snake in question was, "Daddy's precious baby, Princess Sophie."). By the time the man had managed to coax the reptile off of Alister by offering it a dead rat, however, Raphael had come home with Ellie in tow and the situation had to be explained to the blond.

The burly man watched the eccentric scientist go with a distinctly unhappy expression on his face as he closed the front door. "I didn't know we had a snake in the neighborhood," he grumbled, petting Misa comfortingly before handing her to Ellie.

"You don't like them, do you?" asked Ellie wryly, smiling down at the cat when she began purring. She took a seat on the sofa, with Raphael following suit shortly afterward.

"That would be a massive understatement," called Alister from the bathroom, where he was currently examining his ribcage for injuries. "He hates them with a burning passion akin only to the sun."

"Do you 'ave any bruises, mate?" Valon said as the redhead rematerialized in the room.

"It seems like they'll all be on my arm, if they are any," Alister replied crossly, stalking over and closing the family room window. "Stupendous—I can see why you hate them, Raphael."

The young woman tilted her head. "If you don't mind me asking, why do you hate snakes so much?" she inquired, looking up at Raphael quizzically. "You always get uncomfortable whenever the topic comes up at work and the other day you looked like you were going to actually attack that man when he brought in his snake from home to insure it."

Alister and Valon both exchanged surprised glances. "Come t' think of it, 've never asked tha'. So out with it: wha' 'appened t' set you against snakes?" said the Australian after a moment's pause, flopping onto the floor in front of the sofa to study his friend. Although Alister said nothing it was obvious the red-haired biker was just as curious.

Raphael paused, letting Ellie's question register as an unbidden memory resurfaced.

_He was stuck._

_Raphael was stuck and there was not a thing he could do about it because this wretchedly evil snake was sitting on his stomach; he'd gone out to catch some fish for dinner earlier and he'd left his shirt out to dry on a nearby rock, trusting the sun to dry his pants. He'd dozed off, but when he'd woken up it was to find the black reptile sunning itself on his stomach._

_He experimentally tried to shift and try to get it off of him, but the snake hissed coldly at him and the thirteen year old froze. He had no idea if the serpent was poisonous or not—and he was not in a mood to find out, since there were obviously no doctors on this island._

_It would be all right, he reasoned rationally as he stared at the snake. The animal had to get its fill of sunshine sooner or later, and if he gave it some time to bask in the sun it would probably slither off on its own._

_And it did—five hours later, when Raphael was so badly sunburned he had to stay in his makeshift hut for three days afterward (the only area escaping the brutal sunburn being where the snake had been coiled on his stomach)._

Aloud, Raphael said flatly, "Let's go with, 'I had a really unpleasant experience with one' and leave it at that."


	151. Five Times Common Sense Got Neglected

_Because as Valon pointed out earlier: "'m not dumb, I jus' lack common sense!"_

_Set during DOOM and I hope y'all get a laugh out of this!_

* * *

**One**

Alister glared at his wrist, and then directed the furious look at the boy across from him. "You had better know how to get these off, Valon, because if you don't I'm going to strangle you with them," he growled, lifting his handcuffed hand in emphasis for the teenager's inspection. "And if that's not possible I'll just have to find a different way to kill you."

Valon looked slightly alarmed. "Now 'ang on, no need t' resort t' violence over this!" he said hastily, holding his hands up in defense (and revealing that one of his wrists was in the other handcuff). "Jus' 'cause these are fake 'andcuffs 'n' I slapped 'em on us doesn' mean you 'ave t' commit a crime 'n' maim me!"

"_Do these look like fake handcuffs to you?"_ Alister snarled, his expression darkening and his eyes flashing. "Fake handcuffs are _plastic_, you little idiot!"

"Oh…they are? Ya don' say," gulped Valon, offering a nervous laugh when the redhead's scowl deepened. "Well now I know, don' I? I guess we both learned somethin' new, 'n' now we can part ways as unlikely friends, righ'?"

The red-haired biker was clearly not amused. "Get. Them. _OFF._"

"Ah ha ha…about that. The thing of it is, I don' actually know where the keys are, 'cause I thought they were fake 'n' we could just pop 'em off when…you…oh no. RAPH, F'R THE LOVE O' GOD 'ELP! 'E'S TRYIN' TO KILL ME AGAIN!"

* * *

**Two**

"Ow ow ow OW!" yelped Valon, leaning away from the antiseptic swab and nearly falling out of his seat. "Raph, quit jabbin' me with tha'!"

The blond grunted. "I wouldn't have to jab you with anything if you'd hold still," he replied bluntly, continuing to dab at the nasty scrape on the side of Valon's face with a frown.

"But it 'urts!" whined Valon unhappily, beginning to lean away again.

"If you don't stop twitching I might poke your eye by accident," Raphael warned. When Valon pouted but remained where he was the older man resumed tending to the various scrapes on the teenager's face. "So tell me how you did this again."

"I tried t' pop a wheelie on me bike 'n' it didn' go so well," Valon muttered, flinching when the antiseptic wipe went back over the cut.

Raphael paused, then put the bandage on the boy's face. "That's sadly believable," he sighed, continuing to tend to Valon. He sat back in his seat and studied his younger friend intently. "I'm no Alister but that should do it. I still don't understand how you cut your face so badly unless—Valon, please tell me you had your helmet on when you did this."

"...do I 'ave t' answer honestly?"

* * *

**Three**

"So, fellas? I 'ave a 'ypothetical question."

"Ask away, but don't expect an answer out of me."

"Not like I wanted one from _you_, Alister. 'kay, so le's say I was chewin' gum, right?"

"Right."

"'N' le's say I was sittin' next to Mai at the last board meetin' at Paradius while chewin' gum."

"…Valon, why don't I like where this is going?"

"Ehhhh, Raph, 'm kinda not finished yet. Anyways, le's say I was tryin' t' blow a bubble 'n' I…gotthegumin'er'air."

"…Say that again, Valon?"

"Unfortunately, Raphael, I understood him perfectly. Valon, _please_ for the sake of upholding peace and tranquility in this temple tell me you told Mai about the gum _before_ she got all huffy and drove off on her motorcycle."

"Uhm…tha's wha' I was goin' t' ask you fellas about. 'ow do you tell a lady she's got gum in 'er—?"

An outraged shriek echoed through the temple and all three bikers jumped violently. Raphael and Alister both closed their books with a _snap _and rose to their feet. "Valon, you're on your own on this one," said the blond, making for the doorway.

"Wha—wait, fellas, 'elp!"

"No way am I dealing with Little Miss Loudmouth," retorted Alister, following after Raphael. "You handle it."

* * *

**Four**

Raphael stared. "Alister, your helmet's_ what_?"

"You heard me the first time," snapped the redhead, his voice muffled by the helmet. "It's glued to my head."

"…How did you do that?"

"I did it in my sleep. Now what do you think?" retorted Alister sarcastically. "This has Valon written all over it."

Raphael frowned as he experimentally tugged on the helmet. Alister let out a muffled yelp of pain in spite of his best efforts not to and swatted at him, causing the older man to back away. "Where did you leave your helmet? Maybe this was an accident," the burly man continued, his frown deepening.

"Where I always leave it: in the garage, on the shelf with the others."

Raphael padded out to the garage and flicked on the light switch, his blue eyes landing on the aforementioned shelf. "Well here's the problem: someone knocked over the glue jar and the lid came off. Your helmet must have been upside down."

"It wasn't supposed to be. I leave my helmet the right side up—someone knocked it over. And how do you think _that_ happened?"

"Come to think of it, Valon broke the shelf in his room and had to fix it," said Raphael slowly. "He asked me where the glue was about half an hour ago…oh no."

"Wha's goin' on?" asked Valon, popping into view. A genuinely puzzled frown made its way onto his features. "Alister, why's your 'elmet still on?"

Raphael cut over the beginnings of Alister's indignant reply. "Valon, when you got done with the glue did you make sure to screw the lid back on?"

Valon blinked. "I 'ad to screw it on?"

* * *

**Five**

Dartz eyed the bouncing teenager laughing maniacally and currently spinning in a circle on the conference table before directing a frosty glare at the three other men in the room. "I want an explanation. _NOW."_

When no one was forthcoming with an answer the Atlantean's eyes narrowed. "Raphael."

The blond jumped at being addressed so suddenly, but he still dipped his head respectfully. "I'm not sure, Master Dartz," he said. "He was drinking hot cocoa a moment ago, but then he started bouncing all over the place."

"I suspect that the hot cocoa is to blame, Master," added Gurimo. "This reprobate gets hyper off of anything with even the tiniest bit of sugar in it. Raphael and Alister shouldn't have thought about giving it to him."

"Oh yeah? He's never gotten hyper off of hot cocoa before, genius," snapped Alister. "Something's changed this time around."

"Thedrinkwasallbitter'n'Icouldbarelyfinishthestuff," Valon chimed in as he was spinning. He let out a startled yelp as he suddenly lost his balance and toppled onto a chair.

It took a moment before Dartz translated it. "Your drink was bitter?" he asked dubiously as the boy sprang to his feet.

"Yup'n'onceIdrankitIgotallbouncyyyyy!" replied the Australian with a cackle, starting to hop across the room haphazardly.

A sudden hunch made Dartz go over to the table and point to the nearly empty mug Valon had been drinking from. "This was his drink, was it not?" he asked, taking an experimental sip from it. "Well no wonder he's hyper—this is coffee."

"Coffee?" repeated Alister and Raphael at the same time, looking startled.

"But how did that brat get it?" asked Gurimo with disbelief. "I certainly didn't give it to him."

"Did he have to get his own drink? If he did, he may have mistaken one of the coffees for his beverage," replied the Atlantean with a tired sigh.

At the dubious expressions he was being given Dartz arched an eyebrow. "Don't tell me he would know better—we all know he doesn't."

* * *

_Translations:_

_"I…gotthegumin'er'air." = "I...got the gum in 'er 'air."_

_"Thedrinkwasallbitter'n'Icouldbarelyfinishthestuff." = "The drink was all bitter 'n' I could barely finish the stuff."_

_"Yup'n'onceIdrankitIgotallbouncyyy!" = "Yup 'n' once I drank it I got all bouncyyyy!"_


	152. Halloween Mischief: Part I

_Ohhhmigod, it's been two years since this fic was first posted...and now it has more than one hundred and fifty chapters and one thousand plus reviews. WOW. Thanks for all the support, guys!_

_Anyways, expect there to be a sequel to this in the next update (which, by God, will be up tomorrow night in time for Halloween *gets determined face on*). Set post-series and happy (early) Halloween!_

* * *

Valon blinked at the scarecrow sitting out on a chair on the patio, tilting his head before looking to Ellie. "Did Raph or Alister mention wha' the 'eck tha' thing is s'pposed t' do?" he asked, gesturing to the chair.

The young woman shook her head, brushing a strand of caramel colored hair out from her eyes; she was wearing an ivory colored blouse with a leather jacket and a pair of jeans, complete with a pair of ankle high boots. Rather than go to the Halloween party at work this evening Raphael had offered to take her out to dinner and a movie as an early birthday present.

"Raphael said something in passing about putting it out for the children, since neither he nor Alister would be home tomorrow night. He's leaving it out here to see if the pranksters will leave it alone," she replied, glancing toward the house.

The brunette grinned. "In this neighborhood it's not likely that anything'll 'appen t' the scarecrow…unless I get bored."

Ellie smiled as she looked at her watch, then directed her attention back at Valon. "Is Raphael running late?"

"Kinda. Cold weather makes us all sleepy 'n' Raph dozed off earlier. You shoulda seen 'im when he looked at the clock—I don' think I ever saw 'im lookin' so panicked," the teenager responded with a reminiscent tone, putting a hand in his pocket. A moment later a frown marred his face and he let out a grumpy huff. "I _still _think that 'e coulda gone as Frankenstein t' the 'alloween party."

"Not in this lifetime," Raphael stated bluntly, stepping out from the house wearing a dark short sleeved shirt, and slacks. He glanced at Valon with an arched eyebrow. "Besides, we've been over this. I will not go to any event as Frankenstein—no matter how much you claim I resemble him."

"But 'm tellin' ya, you 'n' Ellie both could make a good pair. You'd be Frankie 'n' she'd be Frankie's girlfriend!"

Ellie laughed. "I don't think all that make-up would agree with my complexion; I've got pretty sensitive skin," she said.

"And if you think I'm wearing make up at all you've got another thing coming," Raphael stated flatly, scowling. He frowned when he noticed Valon's helmet under the boy's arm and nodded his head at it. "So what's that about?" he asked, frowning. "I thought you were here for the evening, where are you going?"

"I'm meetin' up with Shizuka 'n' 'er brother over at the arcade. It'd be much more fun if Jounouchi didn' tag along—i's not like 'm gonna do anythin' t' 'er," he added, making a face. "Still, considerin' my options I'd rather do this than stay at home, 'specially considerin' tha' things 'round 'ere are gonna be a bit…_too _interestin', t' say the least."

Ellie and Raphael both exchanged glances before looking to Valon. "What does that mean and does it have something to do with Alister?" asked Raphael at last, studying the younger biker.

Valon's grin nearly reached his ears. "Oh, le's just say tha' 'e's gonna be a little tied up for a while," he said in a far too innocent voice, making his way to his motorcycle. He put his helmet on as he got onto the vehicle, saluting them before revving the engine. "See you later, Raph!"

Raphael watched the youngest biker drive off into the night and shook his head wearily when he noticed the boy popping a wheelie at the mouth of the neighborhood. "We'd better get going ourselves, Ellie," he said, glancing at his watch. "We don't want to be late."

"What about Alister? Do you think he'll be okay?" asked Ellie, looking at the house worriedly.

Raphael nodded. "Today was his shift at the family center, according to Valon. He's still over there as far as I know, which will at least give him a slight chance to adjust to whatever Valon throws at him. Besides, I'm pretty sure I'm going to hear about later anyways. Might as well enjoy the tranquility while it lasts."

* * *

He did not know how Valon had gotten into his room without waking him up last night, nor was he certain how Valon had managed to tape him to a wall in his bedroom, but there was one thing Alister was certain of: he was going to _murder_ Valon the next time he saw him.

He struggled futilely against his bonds, trying but failing to get loose; he was not that he was certain that he wanted to be freed, however. He'd been suspended quite a few feet in the air and getting loose risked him jackknifing himself on the foot of his bed—a painful solution that should not be used unless every other alternative had been considered. He'd have to take his chances and hope Raphael realized that he was up here.

…Judging by the fact he'd only gotten the strip of tape that had been over his mouth off five minutes ago, coupled by the realization that Raphael did not know he had been up here all day, those chances were slim.

"Ohohoho, Valon. _This _means _war," _Alister growled, focusing on freeing himself.


	153. Halloween Mischief: Part II

_...So it turned out longer than I had originally intended, but still. Here's the second part to "Halloween Mischief" and I hope you all enjoy it._

_Happy Halloween, everyone!_

* * *

Valon frowned when he noticed the scarecrow lying innocently on the couch, glaring at it suspiciously. "I thought you were outside," he said with a frown, poking it and hearing the straw crackle beneath his fingertip. "What're you doin' in 'ere?"

Typically, the scarecrow did not move.

Valon studied the scarecrow—one of those cheap models that could be bought for less than ten dollars at the nearest store—for a moment longer before relaxing. "Oh, I get it. Raph brought you in 'cause i's raining outside," he said, glancing out the window to where he could see the rain falling.

When he looked back down at the scarecrow, though, his frown deepened—he didn't remember moving its arm, but yet the appendage was dangling off the sofa.

He shrugged it off (maybe he'd moved it by accident), then rose to his feet and continued to his original destination; he'd been going into the kitchen to grab himself some breakfast, since he could smell it upstairs and could guess Raphael or Alister was making it.

"'ey, Raph!" he chirped as he came into the room, scooping Misa into his arms and setting her on his shoulders as he reached for a plate.

The blond half turned, stifling a yawn before returning his attention to the scrambled eggs he was cooking. "Hello to you too," he said, reaching for the coffee mug sitting on the counter nearby. "Breakfast is almost ready."

He looked over at Valon after a moment's pause. "And by the way, taping Alister to the wall of his bedroom is not a healthy pastime."

The teenager grinned. "Ah, so you 'eard 'bout tha'? C'mon, chum, it was an amazing prank 'n' you know it."

"Alister didn't seem to think so," Raphael pointed out. "He's not entirely thrilled that you did that to him, you know. You're lucky he decided to leave for his job early—which, oh by the way, you lied to me about. He's supposed to be working today, not yesterday."

Valon waved a hand dismissively before looking at his older friend. "Speakin' of not bein' 'appy, do we 'ave t' keep tha' stupid scarecrow in the house?"

Raphael blinked. "What?"

"Tha' scarecrow you put out on the porch. I mean, I know tha' i's rainin' outside 'n' all, but you didn' 'ave t' bring that thing in the house."

The blond continued to stare at him. "What are you talking about?" he asked, looking baffled. "I didn't bring it in."

Valon looked right back at the older man with an impatient scowl. "Raph, nice try, but tha's not foolin' me any," he said, grabbing Raphael's arm and tugging him to the doorway of the kitchen. He pointed to the couch. "Tha' scarecrow."

"…Am I supposed to be looking at something?"

The Australian blinked, staring at the now vacant sofa in surprise. "But Raph, 'e was right there!" he said, looking both annoyed and troubled. "I even poked 'im!"

"Are you sure you weren't half asleep?" asked Raphael skeptically. "I left that scarecrow out on the porch. Go look there if you don't believe me."

Valon glared at his older friend before his face cleared and he let out a laugh. "Oh I see wha's goin' on 'ere. You 'n' Alister are in on some great scheme to get me back…nice try, chum."

Raphael looked down at him with genuine puzzlement on his face. "What are you talking about?" he asked again. "Alister left half an hour ago. His motorcycle's not in the driveway."

Valon huffed. "Raph, you aren' fooling me."

"You'd know it if I was lying."

A pause. "…Oh yeah."

Valon suddenly looked uneasy, while Raphael sighed and went back into the kitchen to make sure the eggs did not burn. "So…Raph, if you didn't move it, who did?" he asked, not really addressing anyone with this statement.

* * *

Valon froze, staring at the scarecrow that was lying on his bed with wide eyes. "I don' believe this," he muttered, watching it uneasily. "I just saw you out on the porch not even five minutes ago."

It had been happening all day. One minute Valon would be lounging around the house, the next it was to find that ridiculous scarecrow sitting in some part of the room. Every time, Valon had gone to get Raphael—and every time, the stupid thing was gone when he returned. It had gotten to the point when the older biker had finally kicked Valon out of the house just so he could get a bit of peace and quiet; the Australian had gone over to Marik's house first, but finding that the scarecrow had made its way onto the Ishtar's porch he went to Shizuka's.

He'd stayed there until he saw the scarecrow sitting in a bench across the street from Shizuka's apartment. Then he'd gone to the family center to make sure Alister was at work and not the cause behind the scarecrow traveling. When that had panned through (and he'd seen the scarecrow in the park) he'd returned home, clearly unnerved.

When he'd come back it was to find that the scarecrow was still on the front porch and that there was no way to explain how it had gotten across town to Shizuka's apartment; since it was already dark outside Valon had decided to stay at home. Raphael for the most part kept dismissing Valon's uneasiness, but now….

"'ow'd you get up 'ere anyways?" he asked aloud, a suspicious glare on his face.

The scarecrow obviously said nothing, lying innocently on the bed.

The Australian entered his room cautiously, treading slowly toward the bed and watching the scarecrow the whole time; the hair on the back of his neck began prickling unpleasantly. "Raph's downstairs, 'e couldn' 'ave moved it up 'ere," he continued, slowly advancing to his bed. "'n' I jus' called Alister 'n' 'e's at work…so…"

He trailed off as he reached the side of the mattress, once again poking it experimentally. When nothing happened he let out a small exasperated huff and then a shaky laugh. "Look at yourself, mate," he said aloud, suddenly amused. "You're all worried about a silly ol'—"

The scarecrow suddenly grabbed his arm in an iron grip.

* * *

Raphael jumped when he heard a terrified yell come from the upstairs and half rose out of the chair he'd been sitting in. Misa yowled, her ears flattening against her head unhappily as she scurried under the chair. "Valon?" the burly man called in concern, setting his book down and making his way to the doorway of the room.

In the next second something barreled into him and Raphael staggered backward, his arms automatically grabbing whatever had just collided with him. A glance downward told him who he'd grabbed onto. "Valon, what on earth—?"

"Raph it was on my bed instead o' the front porch 'n' it's been followin' me everywhere 'n' then it grabbed me 'n' it was awful 'n' _tha' scarecrow is possessed_!" the brunette half wailed, panicked blue eyes looking right back up at him.

Raphael processed this information for a moment before his concern faded and he sighed. "Are you still on about that scarecrow?"

Valon looked as if he'd been slapped. "Raph 'm not kidding!" he said, fright lining all his features. "I's upstairs, c'mon, I'll show ya!"

Raphael allowed himself to be dragged up the stairs and to the doorway of Valon's room, where the boy roughly shoved him forward. He rolled his eyes but moved into the room. "Valon, you can stop using me as a human shield," he said bluntly, gesturing to the bed. "The scarecrow's not there."

Valon shook his head furiously and moved closer to the other man. "'e grabbed me, Raphael, I _promise_," he replied, clearly frightened.

That made the burly man pause. Valon rarely used his full name.

"All right," he replied soothingly, already heading out of the room. "Let's go to the front porch and see if the scarecrow is there."

Valon followed after him, almost treading on the blond's heels several times as they went down the stairs; Raphael finally had to turn around and ask Valon to walk in front of him, since it got to the point where he was nearly falling down the stairs with every step. From outside came a rumble of thunder and lightning lit the windows—not exactly the best settings in the world.

Raphael flicked on the porch light and unlocked the front door, stepping outside and his eyes going to the chair where he had placed the doll. Typically enough, the scarecrow was right where he'd left it; there was no sign at all, in fact, that the scarecrow had moved.

"Raph," whined Valon uneasily, his back pressed the wall and watching the scarecrow warily.

"See? Still here," Raphael said flatly, walking over to the scarecrow and standing next to it. He picked up its arm to lift it from the chair—and then the scarecrow suddenly grabbed his wrists with both hands.

Valon let out another frightened wail and promptly vanished back inside the house, while Raphael honestly let out an alarmed cry and easily got loose from his captor's grip; he backed away sharply as the scarecrow lurched to its feet and put a hand to its face, but then he paused as something under the scarecrow's hat caught his eye. A second later, he burst into startled laughter.

Alister grinned at him from under the broad rimmed hat, gray eyes glittering in amusement. "Got you."

"No wonder Valon's been seeing the scarecrow everywhere—I'm guessing you're the reason Valon's jumping at his own shadow?"

"Yep," Alister announced, pulling the hat off his head. He gestured to a corner of the porch, where Raphael could see the actual scarecrow sitting behind another chair. "Up until five minutes ago he's been on the porch all day while I ran around as his twin brother. The look on Valon's face when I grabbed him upstairs was absolutely priceless."

"You could have told me what you were doing, you know," replied Raphael as he went back to the door.

"I could have, but you wouldn't have been able to lie to Valon if you knew in advance what I was doing."

The blond paused, looking at the redhead with some confusion. "He said he saw you at the family center today, not to mention that your motorcycle's not in the driveway. How'd you do that?"

Alister smirked. "He's predictable. I merely beat him back to the family center when I heard him telling Shizuka where he was going. In regards to my motorcycle, I merely stowed out of sight of the house around the corner. I also climbed out the window upstairs when Valon ran and got you."

"That explains that…Valon, you can come out now. I've got the scarecrow under control."

Valon peered up at his friend from under the sofa, where he and Misa both were hiding. The moment he saw Alister his face flushed indignantly. "It was you!" he said accusingly, scrambling out of his hiding place and glaring at the red-haired biker.

"Yes it was. Maybe you should think twice in the future about taping me to a wall, huh?" asked Alister flatly, unable to entirely banish the triumphant grin playing across his features.


	154. Sick of Snakes

_Eh. My brother showed me a clip of "Snakes on a Plane!" and my bunnies gave me this. Not…entirely sure what to make of it. Set post-series and I hope you all like it!_

_PS: shameless bit of self advertising, but I am working on an AU Polarshipping fic that could use some input. Check it out and leave feedback for it if you've got the chance :D_

* * *

"Raph?"

Poke.

"Raaaaaph."

Poke poke.

"Raph, c'mon chum, this's one time ya need t' wake up."

The blond groaned, rolling over to squint at Valon and then his bleary gaze going to his alarm clock. "V'lon, i's fo' in morn'. Go back t' bed," he mumbled, rolling back over and pulling the covers back over his head.

"Raph, I would, but there's a slight problem with that," Valon replied anxiously, shaking the older man's shoulder when he realized that Raphael was dozing off. "There's a snake in my bed."

"…There's a wha'?" Raphael's reply was both confused and groggy.

"You 'eard me. I's tha' looney professor's pet python Sophie," said the Australian flatly. "'m not kiddin', chum, i's sittin' in my bed right now. Nearly ate me 'til I 'eard it 'issin' in my ear."

"V'lon, y're dream'n."

"Oh really?" challenged the boy indignantly, reaching under the covers to grab Raphael's arm and beginning to yank on it. "Then come look f'r yourself 'n' see if I'm imaginin' things."

The blond grumbled but did not resist, shoving the covers off of him and rising to his feet as he stifled a yawn and reached for a nearby robe. "Valon, if this is a joke it stopped being funny," he said blearily, waking up more as he pulled the robe on. He leveled a stern look at the younger biker to gauge the teenager's reaction.

"Honest, chum, I couldn' make this up if I tried," replied Valon, following after his older friend as he left the room. He flicked on the light switch for the hallway before hurrying to catch up. "Tha' bloody snake's in my bed."

"Where's Misa?" asked Raphael, rubbing his eyes and squinting against the hall light (Valon had not done him any favors by turning on the lights and he was forced to stop walking to let his eyes adjust to the light). If the snake was in Valon's room—and this was not a dream— one of the first things they needed to do was locate their cat.

"In my room," came Alister's voice suddenly as the redhead materialized in the doorway. A quick glance showed the other bikers that Misa was in a secure hold in Alister's hands; the redhead may have just woken up, but he looked certainly more awake than either of his friends. "She's been burrowed under the covers with me for most of the night."

Valon arched an eyebrow. "'n' what're you doin' up this late?"

"Does the word 'insomniac' mean anything to you?" countered Alister in reply, leaning against the doorframe.

"It does, but it don' mean ya 'ave to stay up like a bloody vampire. Wha', will you turn into dust if you don' stay awake all night?"

"No, but you have no room to talk—I at least wake up in the morning. You're the one that dematerializes if you're up before noon."

Deciding that the faster he solved the initial problem was the faster he would be allowed to go back to bed, Raphael tuned out the beginnings of the latest round of bickering from his younger companions and padded down the hall; he paused for a moment outside Valon's closed bedroom door to see if either of the younger bikers would stop fighting, but when they showed no signs of stopping he rolled his eyes and stepped into the darkened room.

"…'n' wha', you think you're so amazin' 'cause you stay up all night without any drawbacks? 'm tellin' ya, tha's gonna come back to bite you in the—Alister, did Raph go in my room?"

The redhead arched an eyebrow. "Probably," he said, idly scratching Misa behind her ears. "That reminds me, what _are_ you two doing up at this hour?"

"Oh, tha'. Well, Alister, there's a—"

Valon's reply was abruptly cut off when they both heard the clearly startled and vehement curse from Raphael, followed by a series of loud crashes and thumps. Both the younger bikers exchanged alarmed glances and Alister paused long enough to put the cat down before they both headed down the hall; as they reached the open doorway they both heard several explosive cracks and one last _thwack_ before silence fell.

"Raph, you okay?" asked Valon, taking a step toward his room.

In the next second Raphael appeared in the doorway, limping out of the room and gently but firmly pushing Valon back. "Don't go in there," he ordered brusquely, closing the door behind them. "I don't know if the snake's dead or not, but I'm not about to find out. You'll have to sleep downstairs on the sofa, Valon."

Alister studied the older man with vaguely visible concern while Valon started complaining; due to the cold weather the downstairs was not as heated as the upstairs, but the red-haired man had to wonder how on earth a snake could travel in such a cold environment. "What was that about?"

"That _was_ our old friend Sophie the python," replied Raphael irritably, hobbling for the bathroom; Alister and Valon both could see the blood staining the lower portion of Raphael's sweatpants, down by his ankle, and could guess what happened. "I don't either know or care if Sophie is still in the land of the living."

The red-haired biker glanced at Valon with a sigh. "I'm guessing that a possibly dead python in your room is the reason you're awake at this hour?" he asked, following after Raphael.

"Yup," replied Valon, frowning as he scooped up the cat. "Tha' was the problem. Looks like Raph solved it, though."

"I did, but now I'll have to explain to the professor what happened to his snake," said Raphael from where he was in the bathroom. "That's something I'm not looking forward to. I probably shouldn't have killed it," he added when Alister came into the bathroom and started examining Raphael's bloody leg. "It was just instinct—I see a snake, I kill it."

"If it makes you feel better, it bit you first. Justifiable cause to kill a snake," Alister said curtly, getting out the gauze and antiseptic. "She got you pretty good. You won't need stitches, but all the same we're probably going to have to go to a doctor to make sure you don't need antibacterial shots."

"Spectacular, an unscheduled doctor's appointment. I _hate_ snakes," grumbled the burly man, scowling at his injured ankle.

Valon's troubled frown cleared up and he grinned at the older man. "'ey, Raph?"

When both of his older friends looked over at him the Australian's smirk deepened and he said, "Tell the truth, now. You've wanted t' off Sophie ever since she got in our house the first time, 'aven' you?"

"…I plead the Fifth."


	155. Hot and Sour Soup

_While pondering on recent events my bunnies remembered something they'd come up with while I'd been sick a while ago and pounced on me, asking me to write it out; they've been all focused on my other fic "The Princess and the Dragon" (which DOES have the bikers in it, though their roles are greatly diminished )._

_Set post-series after all the other ones and I hope you all like it! There should be another chapter coming up today as well, so remember to leave reviews for both if you can!_

* * *

"Raph, I can' breathe," whined Valon thickly, burrowing under the covers on the sofa. "'ow do you do it when you get sick?"

"Practice," replied Raphael, not looking away from his book as he turned a page. He stifled a cough with the back of his hand, leaning back into the armchair with a tired sigh.

"My whole 'ead 'urts too, 'n' my nose is all clogged," mumbled the Australian, groaning. "This sucks."

"Then maybe you should think twice before sneaking out to TP a neighbor's house when it's forty degrees outside," Alister stated as he came into the room. He deposited a box of Coricidin on the nearest table and in plain view of his older friend. "You gave Raphael your cold."

"I 'ad to do it, though. Tha' stupid professor down the road called me a reckless kid the other day when I was leavin' for Shizuka's. R'minded me of ol' Kuriboh," said Valon, sounding indignant.

The corner of Raphael's mouth quirked. "As grievous a sin as that is, did you have to break your window in? It was an innocent bystander and the reason we can't stay upstairs is because you broke the window."

"Well I couldn' very well knock on the door. You'd make me go take my 'ard work down."

"It would have spared you the black eye you got from me," Alister said flatly as he opened the box of cold medicine and handed a packet to Valon. "Take those."

"Do I 'ave to? Those pills make me all loopy and sleepy," said Valon, looking at the pills dispassionately. He paused, peering out enough from under the quilt to make sure that Alister saw the scowl on his face (and the bruise over his right eye). "And tha' black eye _was _unnecess'ry."

"Then next time don't sneak in through my window so that I don't think you're a burglar," retorted Alister, tossing a packet of pills to Raphael and heading into the kitchen. "What do the invalids wish to eat?"

Valon perked up at the mentions of food. "Any chance of a sandwich?" he asked hopefully.

"Nothing complicated, please."

"'ow's a sandwich complicated?"

"More work for me to do."

"Nuh-uh, you're just lazy. 'n' 'sides, if Raph asked you f'r a sandwich you'd make 'im one."

"He says please—and he doesn't rig my underwear drawer to explode out of 'extreme' boredom'."

"If you two are paying attention, soup will be fine for me." This last comment from Raphael was half-bored, made with the knowledge that he was not heard.

There was a knock at the front door, one that prompted Misa to look up from her position and meow brightly. She leapt off of the blond man's lap and padded out of the room, looking back at Raphael and meowing once again.

"All right, Misa, you seem to want me to answer it," Raphael said in amusement. He began to rise from his seat but then his vision blurred and he sank back down into his chair. "On second thought, maybe I'll stay here."

He glanced over to where his other friends were bickering and sighed. "Alister, someone's at the door," he commented, leaning back against the headrest of the chair and closing his eyes wearily.

He heard the last parting comments of the argument before Alister's footsteps moved across the carpet and out into the hallway; he heard the front door open and the murmur of voices as the door closed. "Who was at the door?" he asked, not opening his eyes.

"That was your girlfriend."

Raphael's eyes snapped open in surprise. "Ellie?" he asked, looking around.

The red-haired biker shook his head, understanding who his older friend was looking for. "She didn't come in—she's on her lunch break but she had to go back. She told me to tell you she'd be stopping by again later today, when she has more time."

Valon grinned deviously. "She shoulda jus' come in. Raph could use a nurse dotin' on 'im," he said slyly, glancing at the blond (who promptly turned pink). "So why'd she stop by, anyway?"

"She actually took my idea," Alister said over his shoulder, going into the kitchen with a plastic bag Raphael had not initially noticed. "She brought over some soup for the sick people of the house."

Valon glared. "I am not—" he began, but then he started coughing, the fit lasting for a few minutes; Raphael actually was somewhat concerned and was preparing to get the boy some water when Valon finally stopped. He sniffled and looked stubbornly at them. "—sick," he finished with a wheeze.

Two dubious stares were directed at the Australian. Alister himself coughed, which sounded oddly like the word "denial".

"I don' like soup, though," Valon whined, watching the redhead vanish into the kitchen. "It never fills me up."

"Don't be such a glutton," came the annoyed retort. "Besides, this isn't meant to fill you up, it's meant to help you."

Alister returned with two bowls in hand and gave one to Raphael carefully. "It's hot," he warned.

The older man studied the soup while Alister was giving Valon his soup. "Hot and sour soup?" he asked in some surprise. "Did she stop by a Chinese restaurant?"

"Yes, which was actually where I was about to go," admitted the red-haired biker, glaring when the teenager nearly dropped the bowl. "Careful, klutz."

Valon glared suspiciously at the soup. "I don' know if I like a sour soup. It might be poisonous," he said, poking the top of the soup with his spoon. "'n' wha' is this stuff in it, any'ow?"

"Ingredients include bamboo shoots, tofu, and white pepper," responded the redhead boredly. "Quit picking at it and just eat it."

The brunette opened his mouth to protest when Raphael suddenly choked, looking startled. "Raph, you okay?" he asked. "I told you this's poison, Alister!" he continued accusingly.

"I'm fine," reassured the older biker, taking a drink of water and clearing his throat. "I just wasn't expecting the taste. It's…not what I expected."

"You've never had it before," Alister said sagely. "Keep eating it and you'll see why both Ellie and I wanted to get you two hot and sour soup."

Valon glared but finally took a cautious spoonful of soup. Seconds later he too choked and reached for a near-empty glass of water. "It's 'ot!"

"It_'s_ called _hot _and sour soup for a reason—duh."

"Oh shut it, Alister."

A few minutes later Valon sniffled, reaching for a tissue. "My 'ead doesn' feel so clogged up," he said, blowing his nose. "I've got a runny nose now."

Alister looked somewhat smug. "The spices in the hot and sour soup are great for sinus troubles," he explained. "I even bet you feel less stuffy, too."

Raphael, who had finished first, nodded. "I do, at any rate," he said, already looking better. "When did you figure out that hot and sour soup would help with a cold?"

"In DOOM. I'd been catching a cold at the time when Gurimo brought us back take-out—turned out we'd gotten a soup added to the order and I agreed to take it, so that's how I figured it out," came the reply as Alister padded to his customary spot in the window seat. "Ellie at some point must have learned the same thing. She beat me to the punch, though."

"Thank you both, then," replied Raphael, leaning back into the recliner with a yawn and shutting his eyes. The cold medicine was kicking in and he'd never been one to stay completely awake when taking such things—a nap was probably inevitable at this point.

Alister glanced to the blond before looking out the window, straightening up with a smirk on his face. "Raphael, have you seen the professor yet about Sophie?"

"No," retorted the man with annoyance, sitting up and opening his eyes. "Why?"

"He's coming up the driveway right now. You better have something in mind."

* * *

_Alister and Ellie have the right idea. Hot and sour soup is good if you have head colds and your sinuses are clogged; I don't know if it's because of the spices, but if you've ever got a stuffy nose have a bowl of hot and sour soup. It'll have your nose running and your sinuses cleared in no time flat - I practically lived off of it when I was sick._


	156. Broken Mirror

_Of all the story arcs I wrote, the one that feels most unfinished to me is Valon's; Raphael's and Alister's arcs both had conclusive ends, but Valon's story…it might just be me, but I always feel like there's so much more to it. Perhaps that's why my bunnies still give me ideas for it—there was so much I wanted to add to the arc, but at the time I simply couldn't find a way to incorporate the ideas and left it where it was. Besides, a friend asked specifically for this shot._

_Set post series, and…well. I don't really know _what _to say about it._

* * *

When the phone rang Alister did not even stop what he was doing, continuing to dust the furniture. "Valon, get that."

Valon, who had been playing a video game, groaned (he was supposed to be cleaning as well, but he hindered more than helped and usually stayed out of the way when it came to chores). "Really, Alister? Why me?" he asked. "I've been tryin' to beat the boss f'rever 'n' 'm really close t' doin' it!"

The red-haired man arched an eyebrow before reaching over and snagging the hand-held game out of the Australian's hand. "And now you're not," he replied flatly, ignoring Valon's outraged squawk. "It could be Raphael and my hands are covered in wood cleaner. Answer the phone."

Valon grumbled and stomped out of the room, going into the front hall to get the phone; Alister was only halfway paying attention when he heard the boy answer brightly, "'ello? Who's this?"

There was a brief pause. Alister continued to methodically wipe the dust rag across the table.

"Harbringer? I dunno anyone by tha'…yeah, my name's Valon. Oh, you're wantin' t' talk to me?" Valon's confused voice came in from the hall. "Wha' for?"

Alister only idly listened, glancing at the doorway with a frown before resuming his work. Odd, that a caller would ask for Valon specifically…and it did not sound like it was Marik or Shizuka. They would have called Valon's cell phone instead, and if it was Raphael that would have been apparent almost immediately.

He finished dusting a few minutes later and was on his way to the kitchen to get lunch when he stopped, realizing that something was wrong. Valon had gone entirely silent in the front hall and, though he cannot figure out why, this fact made Alister distinctly uneasy. The younger man was never this quiet for when talking on a phone, even if he did not know the caller.

It was not Valon's voice that broke the silence, however—it was the sound of shattering glass.

* * *

"How did it happen?" Raphael asked grimly as he drove toward the doctor's office.

A tired sigh came over the phone. "_He punched the mirror in the front hallway out. He needed a few stitches."_

Raphael's troubled frown deepened. "Has he told you why he would do something like this?"

"_He told me, all right." _Disgust and anger were distinctly noticeable in Alister's words, already telling Raphael that what was going to follow would not be good news. "_The office where Ms. Wilson works at actually managed to track down Valon's grandparents and notified them about Valon, even giving our contact information for them to use. They _were_ going to tell us too, but the secretary involved went out to lunch and forgot to call before she left."_

Raphael's jaw tightened. "And?" he prompted, dreading the answer. If this is another situation in which Valon could be possibly taken away…but surely if that was the case they would have gotten a call from Ms. Wilson by now.

Alister let out a surprisingly bitter laugh over the phone. "_His grandfather called today. He wanted to make sure that Valon understood he isn't to come to them for handouts or support—they felt it necessary to make sure all ties with Valon remain severed."_

There was an angry tremor in his voice when Raphael spoke next. "What else did he say?"

_"I don't know, but based on the fact Valon's been mumbling 'Mum said it's not my fault' for the past twenty minutes I think I can wager a guess."_

Raphael pulled up to the office and put the car in park. He did not bother turning off the engine—they would not be there for that long. "I'm here. Meet me out front," he ordered curtly, hanging up.

Seconds later the other two bikers came out of the building; Alister had to tug the boy along by his arm (Valon was looking down, his bangs hiding his face) and had to give him a gentle shove into the back seat when they got to the car. Raphael waited until Alister was in the passenger seat before he pulled out. Later this evening they would come back to retrieve the motorcycles, but for now it would be best to get home.

Valon did not say anything until they were about three quarters of the way back to the house, but when he did his voice was a broken snarl. "Like I'd ever want anything from tha' git."

Raphael glanced at the rearview mirror. The Australian was glaring at the floor, no longer subdued, and even as he watched the boy's head snapped up to glare defiantly at a point to his right, outside the window.

"I saw the kind o' charity 'e's responsible for. Worked real well f'r my mum," he continued, his voice both strained and sarcastic. "They're flatterin' themselves if they think I wan' anything t' do with 'em. 'N' 'e thinks _I'm _the one who...'e thinks I'm to blame? 'e needs to look in the freakin' mirror."

Valon fell silent, saying nothing further even when they pulled into the driveway minutes later; he was out of the car the moment it stopped, muttering a brusque, "Sorry f'r the mirror," and making a beeline for the house. By the time Raphael and Alister got inside the boy had already made it to his room and had turned his radio on, the music blasting through the walls.

The older two bikers, deciding to give Valon some much needed privacy, instead turned their attention to the mess in the front hallway; despite the fact that Raphael wanted to do _something _about it (as did Alister, though he would not outright admit it), right now their younger friend needed space and time to digest it all. Alister disappeared in the garage to get the broom and dustpan, while Raphael went for the trash can in the kitchen. They set about straightening things up, only offering one sentence comments every now and then.

Neither Raphael nor Alister said a word about the glimpse they caught of Valon's red-rimmed, far too bright eyes when he had passed them.

* * *

_Before anyone asks, this is the only time Valon's grandparents will make an appearance in this story. I don't like thinking or writing about them—to be honest, they make me ill._


	157. Boats and Ankles

_Because a friend of mine pointed out that there is not nearly enough Raphael/Ellie interaction and because she asked for this shot expressly; kinda as a New Year's present for her, ahahaha. It's sorta short, but my bunnies have been dead lately and I've been really busy on my end—the Christmas and New Year's shot will be along shortly :D_

_Obviously set post series and I hope you guys like it!_

* * *

Ellie looked up at Raphael, biting her bottom lip as she studied him with a worried frown. Although he hadn't said anything so far and in fact probably would not unless asked, it was quite obvious that the taller man was uncomfortable.

She had wondered at first if it was the dress she had chosen to wear; the company was holding a formal dinner at a restaurant that had just opened that evening, so Ellie had chosen to wear a black sleeveless cocktail dress and a pair of black pumps. It couldn't be her dress, though—the sweetheart neckline barely showed anything and the length of her dress was decent.

The restaurant might be a factor, she decided. According to the email that had been sent to the employees it was on a small but comfortable cruise liner that circled the bay every two hours; the ship only sailed at night, making it the perfect venue to host an evening party. It was something she'd been looking forward to since she had never done something like this before, and Raphael had agreed to take her to the restaurant when the topic had come up.

But now, looking up at the taller man, Ellie began to wonder if he was truly all right with this. Even when they had been discussing it earlier on in the week the young woman had noticed that he'd stiffened up the moment he had found out where the restaurant was located, and now that they were on the dock leading up to the boat she could see that in every passing second the tension in his shoulders was increasing.

Raphael had told her before this evening about the shipwreck that had orphaned him at the age of twelve and about his time on the deserted island he'd grown up on when she had pressed him about his discomfort. Raphael had reassured her that he was perfectly fine now and that boats no longer held a negative connotation for him.

Judging by his current posture, however, she could assume he was not as prepared as he thought he was.

Ellie gently placed her hand on his arm and leaned against him. "Raphael? Are you all right?" she asked, looking up at him with a concerned frown.

The blond glanced down at her, his entire countenance relaxing under her touch and giving her a tired smile. "I'm fine, Ellie," he said reassuringly, though the look in his eyes clearly said otherwise. "Don't worry about it."

He returned his gaze to the boat in front of them, his blue eyes darkening and his shoulders tightening once again; his mouth was a thin line and at her side she could feel his fist clenching and unclenching. Raphael was very obviously lying to her.

She touched his arm again and he looked down at her. "We could stick around for about an hour or so and then leave before the boat sets sail," she offered.

The burly man shook his head. "I'm fine," he repeated tightly.

Ellie eyed him before reaching up and turning his face so that it faced hers. "You aren't convincing me, Raphael," she said sternly. "If you aren't comfortable with this we don't have to go."

Raphael looked back at her for one more minute before he slightly relaxed. "I'll be all right once we get on, Ellie," he stated honestly. "I just have quite a few bad memories associated with boats."

She studied him for one more minute and then reached for his hand, interlacing her fingers in between his so that he couldn't clench his fist anymore; Ellie gave a reassuring squeeze and smiled encouragingly up at him when he shot her a startled glance, but said nothing. He offered her a weak sort of smile in return.

Ellie looked to the ship, back to Raphael, to the boat again, and made a split-second decision.

* * *

"I still don't understand how you twisted your ankle," said Raphael with a skeptical frown, glancing at Ellie's propped up ankle. "We took one step in line and the next thing I know you've managed to hurt yourself."

The young woman gave a sheepish smile. "My parents always were on my case about wearing high heels. I've got such weak ankles and I'm a bit of a klutz," she explained with an embarrassed laugh, readjusting the ice pack so it rested more comfortably on her ankle. She reached for the coffee cup sitting on the table and took a sip from it. "Lucky thing this little café was open nearby. I don't think I could've stood up on the boat."

Raphael studied her intently for a moment before shrugging. "That is lucky," he remarked. "I could have carried you onboard, you know," he continued, arching an eyebrow at her.

"I know, but then what would I do? Sit the whole time?" she replied playfully. "I do enough of that at work. It's fine—there'll be another chance to go to that restaurant, if the company likes it enough to hold another dinner there. Hopefully I won't fall over next time."

She decided not to mention that she'd fallen on purpose, but judging by that knowing expression (and the very subtle look of gratitude he was directing at her) she knew Raphael had already figured it out.


	158. Holiday Memories

_Mainly because I fell behind in updating this, I kinda did an "all-in-one" deal. I'm fairly sure there will be a proper New Year's Eve shot in the future, but if not we have this instead._

_Set precanon and happy (incredibly belated, omg so sorry it's late) holidays!_

* * *

Jonathan had been shoveling snow off the front sidewalk (he'd put it off for as long as he could but now it was knee deep and Rosalie had convinced him—bribed him, more like—to shovel it away) when he heard snow crunching behind him and he turned in time to notice the two year old toddling outside onto the porch, staring at the snow with a frown. "And what are you doing out here?" he called playfully, resting his arms on the shovel.

Alister continued to study the snow before looking back at his father with a confused frown. "What dis?" he asked, lifting his bare feet gingerly as they rested on the porch's surface.

"It's snow, Alister," he said, trying not to laugh as Alister started making his way around the porch.

The child looked over his shoulder at the tiny footprints he was making before he started making his way across the porch; he was picking his feet up as he walked and eyeing the ground with distaste, very much like a cat whose paws had gotten wet.

Rosalie must not have known their son was outside because he was not even wearing his coat, Jonathan mused. Alister often followed his mother around like a baby chick, but there were times when he sought his father's company and this was one of those times—though, given how cold it was, it would be better to be inside and out of the cold.

Besides, he'd been looking for a reason to go back inside. "Come on, Mommy will be looking for you and you need your coat to be outside."

The red-haired child made it to the edge of the porch and stared at the snow that lay on the front lawn before taking a big step forward, towards his father. Seconds later the child vanished from view as he fell through the snow—Alister had yet to learn that the snow was deeper than it initially appeared.

Jonathan dropped the shovel and made his way carefully on the ice covered ground, to where Alister had fallen through; the boy had not moved at all, clearly startled by what had just happened. All that the man could see was Alister's red hair as it stood out at the top of the hole, giving Jonathan the distinct impression of a mushroom. "Alister?"

He bent down and lifted his son easily out of the snow bank. A glance at his son's alarmed, snow covered face caused his concern to fade and a small chuckle wrested its way out of him. "Well then, munchkin, best get you inside before you freeze. Your mother would never let me hear the end of it if you got a cold."

"I hates snow," grumbled the toddler sourly, burrowing into his father's coat as they made their way back inside.

* * *

"Papa, Mama! He came, he came!"

The blankets shifted. "Tha's nice, Sonia," came their father's reply, slightly marred by a yawn as he shifted onto his side.

Lilith, who had woken up the first moment she'd heard their bedroom door open, propped herself up on one elbow and eyed her three children; the clock on her nightstand, visible over Robert's shoulder, read about six. Five year old Sonia and three year old Julien were both looking up at their parents with breathless smiles, eyes glittering in excitement. They had even managed to drag their older brother out of bed with them (who looked very much like his father at the moment, in that he was about to fall asleep on his feet).

"Who's come?" she asked, repressing a yawn of her own.

"Santa C'aus!" crowed Julien.

She let this sink in for a moment before she realized what day this was and she assumed a thoughtful frown. "Santa Claus, Santa Claus…I don't think I know who you're talking about, dear heart."

Sonia stamped her foot. "You do too know who, Mama!" she said accusingly. She turned to Raphael and said, "Elder Brother, you know Santa Claus. Tell Mama!"

Raphael looked very much as if he wanted to go back to bed, slightly swaying on his feet, but even so he managed a sleepy, "Santa's s'pposed t' come on Christmas."

"There!" said Sonia, looking at her mother triumphantly. "See? Elder Brother knows—Raphael, you can't sleep now!" she added, noticing the way her older brother's eyes were drifting closed.

Lilith watched them with a playful smile. "I'm afraid it's still not ringing any bells. Robert, dear, do you know who Santa Claus is?" she asked, shaking Robert's shoulder gently.

Another yawn and one of her husband's eyes cracked open. Robert caught his wife's eye before he sat up as well, watching his children and trying not to look too amused. "Well, I do, but I had thought he only came on Christmas."

"But it _is_ Christmas!" insisted Sonia, though she suddenly looked doubtful. "It is, isn't it?"

"Waphie says i's C'istmas," Julien said firmly, reaching up to hold Raphael's hand. "Waphie al'ays wight."

The adults exchanged glances before they looked back to the three children. "Well he'd be right," said Robert, reaching for the robe hanging over the back of a nearby chair. "Why don't you go on downstairs? Lilith and I will be along shortly."

Sonia and Julien both let out identical squeals of joy before they moved for the door, bodily dragging Raphael behind them; by now the older boy was starting to wake up more and actually managed to walk straight, but the younger Knightons still managed to accidentally drag him into a wall before Raphael could avoid it.

* * *

Valon studied the open box curiously before looking back up at Mother Mary for an explanation. "Wha' are all these tube things?" he asked, picking one up and examining it with a frown.

The nun bent down and took it out of Valon's hands. "It's a firework. The church is holding a New Year's Eve celebration for this neighborhood and at midnight we'll be setting them off," she explained, setting it back inside the crate and resuming her earlier task of sweeping.

"Wha's a firework?"

Mother Mary paused, her grip on the broom loosening. It was easy to forget that Valon did not know things most others did; while on a walk the other day he'd been absolutely petrified of the motorcycle as it had roared by them and it had taken her a good hour or so before she'd managed to convince him that it was not (too) dangerous. Chances were high that Valon had seen the firework being set off in the sky above them for holidays but had never seen them in this form.

"Have you ever seen those bright colors that light the sky on New Year's before you came here?" she asked at last, studying him.

Valon frowned. "Kinda," he said with a shrug. "It's 'ard t' see them over the city lights sometimes."

"Hard to…oh no," she laughed, understanding what he was referring to. "No, Valon, those are stars. Fireworks are all sorts of colors and they make loud popping noises when they're set off."

The boy's eyes instantly lit up in recognition. "Oh! Y'mean the boomy lights!" he declared, pleased that he did in fact know what was in the crate.

"Yes. Only we call them fireworks," she replied, laughing a bit at the name Valon had given them. "We set them off for New Year's—"

"'ow come?"

"To welcome the New Year," she replied without missing a beat. By now she was used to Valon interrupting her and even had started getting the hang of answering his many questions.

Valon fell silent and resumed studying the box. Mother Mary went back to sweeping the porch, thinking that the boy had perhaps lost interest in conversation and would resume speaking in a few minutes.

Seconds later the sound of a firecracker shrieking towards her made her jump and she barely had time to duck the projectile hurtling out of the church, nearly falling from the stairs; judging by the multiple balls of light hurtling outside a Roman candle had been set off.

The firecrackers exploded harmlessly in the air above her and the moment they stopped she hurried back inside, to where a shell-shocked Valon was standing by one of the candlesticks. His face was covered in black soot and there was already a burn forming on his hand, but even as she was hurrying to him a grin stretched across his features and his eyes lit up instantly. "I was tryin' t' read wha' was on this," he began, holding the charred tube that was once the Roman candle. "Y'know somethin'? I reckon I like fireworks."

Mother Mary instantly decided to keep all fireworks away from Valon in the future.


	159. Sack of Potatoes and Optometrists

_Haha, back with an update!_

_For those of you who read this and follow "The Princess and the Dragon", that chapter will be up ASAP (there's a notice on my profile, in the event the chapters for that fic aren't posted on Fridays as planned). In the meantime, here's this chapter for you._

_Set during DOOM (early DOOM—as in 'they don't entirely get along yet') and a quick note: when visiting an optometrist they usually check the inside of your eyes for problems, like glaucoma. To do that, they use a yellow dilating solution that dilates the pupils so that the doctor can see the back of them. It's cool when they shine the ultraviolet light in your eyes, but it STINGS like all get-out for a couple seconds and you'll want it out pretty quick._

_This, coupled with a certain Australian teenager who's never encountered an optometrist before and doesn't know what to expect, makes for an interesting reaction._

_**EDIT: I posted this last night, but there was an issue where people couldn't access it. I took it down to repost it for those who couldn't get to it.**_

* * *

Raphael sighed wearily. "You're going."

The boy shot him a glare and folded his arms stubbornly. "Make me. I don' need no hack doctor proddin' 'round my eyes."

"Valon, we've been over this. Doctors are not going to harm you—"

"Tell tha' to the bloke who shot me in the wrong place six different times last week. He was out for blood, I saw tha' evil glint in those eyes of 'is!"

"Yes, because the quiet little man with large glasses and who was balding is secretly a sadistic monster who, when born, decided that he would seek out a boy named Valon and make his life a miserable hell." Alister's blunt and deadpan response held an edge of irritation to it—his other two companions had been arguing over this for hours now and it was becoming unbearable in the safe house.

"It didn't help that you kept trying to dive off the table," Raphael pointed out, half amused. "Of course he's going to hurt you when giving you shots—you don't stop fidgeting long enough to let him."

Valon's glare deepened and he was tensing in his seat, eyes shifting between the older men and the door. Raphael knew what that meant and pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's a requirement from Master Dartz. Dentists, optometrists, doctors…you have to visit them and they have to give you a clean bill of health."

"Not to mention that if we don't get this done by the time Gurimo comes back from his solo mission he'll make our lives miserable," Alister said irritably. "As if he didn't already."

"Oh, like tha's gonna 'appen. I'm s'pposed t' just sit there, as 'appy as you please, 'n' let some idiot poke 'round my eyes with a pointy object of death! I can jus' picture it…'no worries, Valon, 'm only gonna pop your eye with a pin, it won't 'urt tha' much.'"

Alister rolled his eyes again. "Have you even been to the optometrist before? They're harmless. They don't stick anything in your eyes unless you're having corrective surgery."

Valon fidgeted again. "'m still not goin'," he muttered sullenly.

"There's one right down the road from this particular safehouse," said Raphael wearily. "It's not like it's a matter of life or death if you go."

"Nope. Sorry Raph, I'm not. You're my friend 'n' all, but the day of the appointment I'll be gone 'fore you can find me. You'll never catch me, you evil fiends—well, okay, Raph's not, but you _still _won't catch me."

Alister's eyebrow rose. "I'm a fiend, now? At least that's a step up from 'she-male,'" he commented wryly.

The redhead then exchanged glances with Raphael. "I did tell you it would come to this."

"I was hoping it wouldn't," said Raphael with a sigh. "I figured that if I explained what optometrists do he'd go willingly, not that they will secretly harvest his organs or whatever else he thinks doctors do."

"He's never been to an optometrist before, though. It's actually about the reaction I was expecting…he's under the impression that they're going to make cocktails and use his eyes for the olives. I did tell you that."

"…That's only mildly disturbing."

Valon scowled. "'m still in the room, fellas. Quit pretendin' I'm not in 'ere."

The two older men turned to Valon with contemplative expressions, earning a confused look from the youngest member of the group. "Fireman or sack of potatoes?" Alister asked at last.

"Sack of potatoes," Raphael replied decisively as he moved in Valon's direction, and before the teenager realized what was happening the blond had ducked down, caught Valon's knees, and lifted him over his shoulder.

"Oi! Put me down! Raph!" Valon yelped, struggling (uselessly) in his older friend's grip. "What're you—!"

"You said you'd run off on the day of your appointment," Raphael replied evenly as he walked toward the garage, keeping Valon's knees firmly pinned down to prevent the teen from kicking him. "I merely beat you to the punch."

"Tha's not on! Raph, you're cheatin'!"

"You _were_ the one who encouraged me to use my advantages to their fullest in a fight."

"But tha's only if you're in a fist fight, mate, not f'r kidnappin' me 'n' draggin' me to the eye doctor!"

Alister looked vaguely amused. "It'll turn into a fist fight soon enough if we don't."

* * *

Valon glanced up at Raphael in the waiting room. "I really don' wanna," he whined, looking at the exit longingly. "C'mon, Raph, 'ave a 'eart."

The older man turned his head and, noticing how unhappy the younger biker was, gave him a reassuring smile. "They won't hurt you, Valon. There won't be any shots. No hammers hitting your knees, no blood pressure tests, no blood samples, no needles poking around your eyes…honestly, all they do make sure you don't need glasses. Nothing will actually hurt you."

The Australian brightened considerably, but when the nurse called him he shrank once again. He got to his feet reluctantly and looked at the other bikers, silently asking them to help.

Alister rolled his eyes. He was strategically placed next to the exit in case of an imminent escape attempt and the way the younger man was edging toward it proved he'd chosen his seat correctly. "Valon, for pity's sake, be a man and get in there," he snapped.

Valon scowled at the red-haired biker, his discomfort immediately vanishing as he stalked after the beaming nurse and disappeared from view.

Raphael made certain that Valon walked all the way through the door and did not try to make a run for it before reaching over for a nearby magazine; he had not brought anything from the house, primarily because his hands were full with Valon at the time and he could not have grabbed anything. His cell phone began ringing and a glance revealed that it was Gurimo calling. He repressed a sigh—likely the other man was checking in again. It had gotten old the first seven times he'd called and his patience was starting to wear thin.

Alister solved that problem by snatching the phone out of his hand, clicking on the 'end call' button, and handing it back to a flabbergasted Raphael. "We have enough to deal with at the moment without that idiot adding it in."

"He's still the one Master Dartz—"

Alister shot him a look over the top of his book. "You know, doctor offices always have shoddy reception," he said idly, returning his gaze to the page. "Gurimo will understand, I'm sure."

Raphael opened his mouth to argue, closed it, and decided it wasn't worth the effort. He'd only been around the redhead for a month but he'd already learned it was best not to argue with him.

He'd just started to get settled down and was perusing a coverless magazine when a roar erupted from the back of the office, causing the other patients in the lobby and even Alister to jump; seconds later, they heard a pained wail that consisted of, "You've bloody _blinded_ me!"

Alister stared. "What…?"

They could also hear what sounded like the optometrist trying to say some assurance before Valon cut over them angrily. "_My eyes are burnin' outta my skull! IT'S NOT ALL RIGHT!"_

Raphael frowned as he digested the information before he groaned. "Oh no, the eye dilating solution," he muttered, running a hand through his cropped hair. "I forgot to warn him about that."

Alister merely lifted his book up to cover his face as the room started buzzing. "I don't know that idiot, if anyone asks."

There was an uncomfortable pause and then Raphael groaned again. "He'll never trust an optometrist again when he finds out he's almost blind for the next few hours."

The corner of Alister's mouth quirked. "And thus Valon's conviction that all medical personnel are out to maim and kill him was validated."


	160. Nightmare

_I got a review from _Roxygirl87 _quite some time ago, which had an interesting topic in it. It involved the subject of whether or not Alister suffered from PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder). It took my bunnies quite a while but then they gave me this; it's not exactly the suggestion she had in mind, but it's fairly close._

_It's set during DOOM and…huh. It's a lot different then what I've written before, though, so…I dunno._

* * *

"Raph! Raph, 'elp!"

The sound of Valon's panicked voice pulled him out of sleep and Raphael groaned. "V'lon, not now. G' ba' t' bed," he mumbled, rolling over and pulling the cover up over his head. They'd only just gotten back to the temple that night and he was thoroughly exhausted; he had no patience to deal with another one of Valon's late night questions at the moment.

The sudden punch in the shoulder was completely unexpected and the blaze of pain radiating from his arm was enough to wake him up entirely, forcing him to sit up and actually glare at the shorter biker. "Valon," he growled, startled when the Australian started tugging frantically on his arm. "Valon, what are you doing?"

Valon was clearly afraid, his blue eyes wide in the darkness and his pale face twisted with panic. "Raph you gotta 'elp me. I was in Alister's room t' try 'n' set up a joke jus' t' scare 'im 'n' then all o' a sudden 'e starts mumblin' in 'is sleep—like 'e's 'avin' a nightmare, y'know? Anyway, 'e sits up real sudden like, 'n' it's scary because 'e won't move. I tossed water on 'im 'n' 'e didn' even react and I don' think 'e's breathin' 'n' 'e's got this look on his face and…and…Raph, I dunno wha's the matter with 'im!" he finished desperately.

Raphael stared at the younger man in shocked surprise, processing this for only a second before registering a part of Valon's panicked babbling. "He's not _breathing_?" he asked sharply, suddenly understanding the urgency behind the Australian's actions. He instantly got out of bed, left his bedroom, and made for the red-haired biker's room, Valon trailing after him.

"I dunno if 'e is or not, but Raph you gotta do somethin'! I can' snap 'im outta it!" the teen half-wailed.

Raphael entered Alister's room and paused, his eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room only for a few seconds as he flipped on the light switch; he caught a glimpse of Alister in the bed as he groped in the dark for the light switch. When his eyes had readjusted his gaze went to the bed to assess the situation.

Alister, clothed in a gray tank top and sweatpants visible underneath the blankets, was sitting bolt upright and had not even flinched when the light had come on. His hair was dripping water, from where Valon had tossed his water glass at him, but the slender man did not even seem to register this fact. His gray eyes were blank and unseeing, half-lidded and focused on some point only he could see; all color had drained from his face and his body was rigidly locked into place, his fists clenching the blankets in a death grip. There was something in Alister's eyes that honestly alarmed the blond, though he could not say what it was—no wonder Valon had gone to get help.

The redhead did not react at all when Valon's panicked wail broke the silence. "See, mate, 'e's all scary 'n' 'e won' respond! I even tried 'ittin' 'im 'n' 'e didn' even blink!" said the teenager in a rush, visibly alarmed. "You gotta do somethin'—_anythin'_—t' make 'im snap outta it!"

Raphael approached the bed cautiously, noting with great relief that he could see Alister's chest rising and falling shallowly. "He's breathing," he announced, some of the tension easing from his shoulders.

Valon also relaxed, though the alarm on his face did not vanish. "So wha's the matter with 'im, then?" he asked, an edge to his voice.

"I don't know." The burly man eyed Alister for a moment longer to see if the other biker would come out of whatever state he was in on his own, but when five minutes passed and nothing happened he tentatively grasped Alister's rigid shoulder; he nearly recoiled when his hand came into contact with cold and clammy skin. "Alister?" he asked, gingerly shaking him. "Alister, are you all right?"

Nothing happened.

He exchanged a helpless look with Valon, at a loss as to what he was supposed to do for the younger man. He'd never seen anything like this before in his life and Valon had doused Alister in water _and_ punched him. If Alister did not come out of …_whatever _this was… Raphael would have to get either Gurimo (not likely, as he would probably make matters worse) or Master Dartz.

"Raph—"

"I know," replied Raphael, cutting over him. "Honestly, Valon, the only alternative left would be to hit him, but as you mentioned earlier you tried that," he said, noticing the red mark underneath one of Alister's eyes. "I think the only thing we can really do at this point is watch him and make sure he doesn't stop breathing."

He glanced to the nearby alarm clock. "If he doesn't snap out of this in the next ten minutes I'm getting Master Dartz," he decided, and with that he pulled up a chair that had been sitting in the corner of the room and sat it next to Alister's bed. Valon half-sat on the edge of the redhead's mattress, watching Alister anxiously. Raphael glanced at him and put a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder.

Valon had mentioned that Alister had seemed to be having a nightmare right before this had happened, though. This suddenly gave him an insight as to why Alister was an insomniac: if this was what happened during a nightmare anyone would suddenly gain a reluctance to sleep.

This brought up another point, one that Raphael was reluctant to really examine but still had to anyways. Alister had been showing classic symptoms of post traumatic stress disorder since his arrival at DOOM; he'd overheard one of the psychiatrists conversing about it when he'd been in for the mandatory mental evaluation Dartz required on a yearly basis (something he could honestly do without—he'd rather have blood drawn and the doctors missing a thousand times rather than tell anyone about his feelings or his memories). According to them, the emotionless, distant, and almost cold manner that surrounded Alister was a textbook case of it, but since it had not hampered Alister's daily activities they had no other choice but to let him go.

It had not entirely surprised Raphael when he'd overheard this, given the fact Alister had grown up in a war-torn city, but given the fact that the red-haired biker was too aloof for his own good he tried not to bring it up. Besides, the one time the topic of PTSD had entered the biker's conversations—albeit by accident—Alister had simply risen from his seat and had left the room, pointedly avoiding both Raphael and Valon and ignoring anything they said until the topic was dropped.

Maybe this was a side-effect of PTSD, he mused. It would make sense if the circumstances were factored in it…maybe Alister had been dreaming and it had turned into a nightmare involving his memories, prompting this state. He had no other ideas as to what was causing this and frankly it alarmed him.

Time seemed to pass slowly and as it did Raphael found he was getting distinctly unnerved by the lack of motion from Alister; the slender man might as well have been a statue. More than once he feared Alister had stopped breathing and would check, but for the most part the two bikers kept a silent vigil and waited to see if he would come out of it.

The time limit came and went. Alister still did not respond and Raphael concluded it was time to go get Dartz for help. Just as he had been about to leave the room, though, he heard Alister's breathing hitch and he stopped, coming back over to the bed.

"Alister?" Valon asked hopefully, waving a hand in front of Alister's face.

Raphael tried again to get a reaction out of his younger companion, snapping his fingers in front of the unresponsive eyes. "Alister, can you hear me?"

This time one of the redhead's hands twitched, though it was feeble, and Alister actually blinked.

"Is 'e comin' outta it?"

"I can't tell," Raphael sighed, gripping Alister's shoulder again and giving it a firm shake. The skin under his hand was starting to warm up once more. "I think he is."

There was another shuddering breath and then Alister's body sagged, color washing back into his face and his gray eyes closing; the other two bikers exchanged worried glances when Alister remained slumped over, fearing that something worse had happened. But then his head lifted and Alister blinked against the light, his now alert eyes searching the room in a rare moment of visible bewilderment before landing on them. The expression instantly shifted into another one of his emotionless masks.

"You…you back, mate?" Valon asked uncertainly.

"Does it look like I went on some mystical journey in the middle of the night? I'm in my pajamas, genius," came the annoyed retort. "I haven't gone anywhere. And what are you two doing in here?"

"You were catatonic for nearly half an hour, Alister," explained Raphael wearily, relief coloring his voice as he cut over the beginnings of the blossoming argument. "We couldn't get you to respond and we were nearly going to get Master Dartz involved—you were barely breathing."

Something flickered in Alister's eyes and for just a moment he looked uncomfortable. "Oh. That."

"What _was_ that?" demanded Valon, glaring at him.

Alister returned the look, his eyes narrowed and all traces of his discomfort gone. "None of your business," he retorted. "It's not harmful, despite all appearances. It's just a quirk I have."

Valon spluttered and began arguing vehemently over what exactly constituted a "quirk" with Alister, while Raphael studied the redhead attentively. It seemed that the aloof young man wasn't suffering any consequences of the catatonic state he'd been in, though he seemed just a tad bit embarrassed (probably because he'd never intended for them to see him in such a state). For now, Raphael decided, he'd let the matter alone: Alister could not be forced into telling them what was wrong, so it would be best to wait for him to approach them on the subject.

Alister seemed to be tiring of the argument and of their concerned presences. He looked to the clock, back at Valon and Raphael, and sighed. "Look, you two, it's not going to happen again tonight. I appreciate the concern—and I do, Valon, get that look off your face—but it happens only once in a while. Quit coddling me and go back to bed before I toss you both out the window."

Valon huffed and stomped from the room, muttering about crazy roommates and stupid quirks, but as Raphael reached the doorway the redhead said, "What happened earlier…it was just some stupid nightmare. You aren't going to say anything about this to Dartz, are you?"

He turned, meeting Alister's (slightly defiant, mostly defensive) gaze evenly. "As long as it doesn't turn into something life threatening I won't," he replied at last. "I'll talk to Valon."

Alister weighed this response for a few seconds and then relaxed. "Good. I'm not going to turn into this deranged psychopath just because I grew up in a warzone," he added, still defensive and sounding oddly desperate. "I'm fine. Don't think I'm crazy or anything like that."

Valon poked his head around the door before Raphael could reply, speaking for the both of them. "We don', chum," he said with a genuine smile. "You're still Alister, even if you're a cranky mushroom 'ead 'alf the time."

The red-haired man said nothing for a long moment before his face contorted into a scowl and he threw his pillow at the Australian. "My head doesn't look like a mushroom," he said irritably, but for the briefest of seconds there was a relieved light in his eyes.


	161. I Don't Have It

_The phrase "Quiet people attract quiet friends" popped into mind the other day and I found that Raphael and Alister probably would have had serious conversations once in a while. This notion, coupled with the events of the previous chapter, produced this update. I'll try to explain the concepts in here as best as I can, but if it's still not apparent there's an explanation at the end (and if that STILL doesn't make sense feel free to let me know)._

_Set during DOOM and a brief heads up: Raphael and Alister are not aware of the role the Orichalcos is playing with them (which is something we know, but we unfortunately can't break down the fourth wall), which is why they don't entirely understand what role it's playing in Alister's nightmares…and yes, that will make sense once you get to that part._

* * *

"I don't have it, you know."

It was more of a statement than anything else and Raphael looked over the top of his book at Alister, who was leaning in the doorway of the family room with a perfectly unreadable expression on his face. Outside the temple the rain fell in sheets, brushing against the windows and pattering on the roof. "Sorry?"

"Post traumatic stress disorder. I don't have it."

Raphael understood what had brought this subject up and set the book down. "You're worried that I think you do because of last night?"

Alister lifted his chin defiantly. "Some people go through all sorts of traumatic events and they don't end up with PTSD. I'm one of those people. I keep telling people that if you live in a warzone you don't come out of it as a bright ray of sunshine—besides, my mother always said that I resembled my father in personality at times."

Raphael held his hands up reassuringly. "You don't have to defend yourself to me, Alister. If you say you don't have it, you don't—I believe you."

Something close to relief flickered in Alister's eyes as he padded across the room and sat down on the nearby sofa. "I'm glad to see that you're of that opinion."

The blond studied him for a moment. "You're trying really hard to convince me that you're fine. Has someone accused you of having PTSD?" he asked, but the moment he said it he remembered what he'd overheard on his last mental evaluation and repressed a wince—of _course_ someone had.

Alister's face promptly darkened. "Every time I go in for a mental evaluation the psychiatrists want to stick me with that diagnosis, just because I won't cooperate with them when they want me to answer their questions. They pretend that they're concerned about me, but whenever I answer their questions they act as if I'm some sort of…_specimen_," he spat, an angry tremor in his voice. "Taking notes, telling me that it's utterly fascinating to hear about how I watched my world collapse around me…it's like my life's some movie to them!"

Raphael's eyes narrowed grimly. If that was the impression that Alister was getting from the psychiatrists it was no wonder he would not answer their questions; the younger man did not divulge anything about himself without having some sort of reassurance that it would not be treated trivially.

That could be a huge part of the problem, he mused. Alister's refusal to cooperate with the psychiatrists could easily be construed as denial that the events happened, which was a huge component of post traumatic stress disorder.

"What sort of questions do they ask, you wonder?" Alister continued, bringing the older man back to the conversation. "Half of them are ones that aren't any of their business—you know, cute questions involving how it felt when I learned my parents died, and whether or not I ever killed anyone during my time in the war."

The other biker was flabbergasted. "They asked you _that_?"

"I told you there was a reason I don't answer their questions," Alister said darkly.

"And the other half of the things they ask you?" Raphael prompted, though he was afraid of the answer he would get.

"Those are ones that I generally answer to with 'must destroy Seto Kaiba' or some variant of that. That would thoroughly convince them that I was mental if they hadn't believed it before, so I figure it best not to say anything," replied Alister nonchalantly, a wan smile appearing on his face.

His smile faded and he continued speaking. "The fact I'm reluctant to answer their inquiries and my refusal to discuss my past, coupled with my personality, has led them to believe that I am suffering from PTSD and nothing can convince them otherwise. They keep trying to saddle me with that diagnosis, but so far they don't have enough proof to say I've got it. I've only got snippets of it, you see."

Alister tilted his head to rest on the back to the sofa and his eyes closed wearily, but when he spoke next his voice held a trace of desperation. "And you know what the worst part of this whole thing is? The more they say I've got PTSD the more I'm inclined to believe them, despite the fact that I _know_ I don't have anything wrong with me. Right after I left my hometown I was evaluated for it and they cleared me then."

A heavy silence fell after this, the two of them lost in their thoughts.

"You should tell Master Dartz about this," Raphael said at last. "I know you don't trust him," he added with a touch of exasperation, noticing Alister's disbelieving stare and accompanying grimace, "But at least you could ask him to let another psychiatrist evaluate you—one who has no idea what to expect from you. When you go in don't tell them that you've been suspected of having PTSD, and if that particular psychiatrist finds you don't have it you're all the better. If they do find that you've got PTSD it's something that could have developed in the amount of time between when you were first cleared of having it and the present, which isn't necessarily a bad thing."

The redhead mulled this information over silently, the only sound breaking the silence being the rain as it hit the windows; from somewhere outside the room they could hear Valon's rambunctious laughter, presumably due to some prank he had just executed. Raphael did not expect the other man to say any more on the matter; the fact Alister had disclosed this much was enough for him, considering that the redhead often kept to himself and rarely told anyone about his problems.

Just as Raphael was beginning to think he would not get any further in this conversation, Alister said reluctantly, "You have a point. I'll…go talk to Master Dartz later."

He looked at his hands and studied them for a moment before looking back up. "Raphael, you're practically a walking encyclopedia," said Alister at last, glancing over at the older biker. "Maybe you can explain what happened last night. Those catatonic states aren't a part of PTSD."

The blond started recalling the event, reluctantly remembering the frighteningly blank expression on the other man's face and the unresponsiveness that had followed. "I haven't seen anything like that before," he admitted. "I had no idea how to help you. Can you remember what you were thinking at that time?"

Alister frowned, though this one was more out of concentration. "It started out normal," he said slowly. "I was having some mundane nightmare. Something about forgetting my pants in my duel against Kaiba—don't look at me like that, I have dreams like that too."

The gray eyes narrowed. "Then there was a flash of green light and the next thing I know I'm reliving the worst of my memories. I couldn't talk, couldn't move, couldn't do anything besides relive it," he said darkly.

Raphael turned this information over in his head. "You mentioned last night that this happened regularly…did this start up when you were younger?"

"I can conclusively say it didn't. I was always with Miruko or rooming with my friends whenever I had to sleep. They would have told me if I'd suddenly turned into a zombie—one of us was always on watch for enemy soldiers."

"So this must have started when you first came to the temple," said Raphael musingly, though he was still baffled. "I honestly don't know what to make of it."

Alister sighed and started toying with the Orichalcos stone around his neck. "I guess I can call it an achievement—I finally found a topic that stumped you," he said wryly.

Raphael's eyes went to the Orichalcos pendant in the other biker's fingers before something clicked; Alister had mentioned a green light in his dreams, so it was entirely possible… "Alister, do you go to bed wearing your Orichalcos stone?"

The red-haired man paused, dropping the pendant back onto his chest. "I do," he said, comprehension dawning on his face as he looked down at the necklace as well. "Do you think those states have something to do with the Orichalcos?"

"It's possible, though I'm not sure why that would be the case. It's the only thing that comes to mind when you say 'green light'…try leaving it off when you go to bed and see if that doesn't solve the problem," he suggested.

"It could jus' mean 'e's 'arry Potter, y'know," Valon said as he popped into the room, blue eyes scanning the area restlessly for some nameless object. "'n' sides, Alister, I told you last night you weren' some loony."

Alister scowled. "How long have you been listening in on this conversation?" he asked, looking indignant.

"Not long, 'eard somethin' 'bout a green light in your nightmares—anyways, fellas, if Kuriboh comes lookin' 'm not 'ere," came the terse reply as Valon vanished under the sofa.

The two older bikers exchanged confused (and slightly exasperated) glances. Now they knew what Valon had been looking for—a hiding place.

Seconds later Gurimo himself stomped into view. "Where is he?" he snarled, his gaze traveling over everything in the room. "That reprobate is going to be punished for this!"

Alister and Raphael both stared in disbelief at the pink, glittering afro that the monocled man was currently sporting and unable to form articulate speech. In the aftermath of such a serious topic of discussion they did what all dignified adults do when confronted with such a situation: they burst into uncontrollable laughter, much to Gurimo's outrage.

* * *

A couple of weeks later the small group returned to the mainland to prepare for another mission, but the day before they were supposed to ship out Alister completely vanished; it had enraged Gurimo when he could not find the elusive young man and it had worried the other two bikers.

Alister eventually returned later on that evening. Although nothing outwardly suggested anything was different one look at Alister's eyes and posture told them that something must have happened for the better: the gray orbs were alight and his entire disposition was relaxed. There was also the hint of a genuine smile on his face.

When Gurimo laid into the redhead and had demanded to know what Alister had been doing in the amount of time he had been gone the young man's eyes went to where Raphael and Valon were both sitting.

"I don't have it," he announced contentedly.

* * *

_It occurred to me that I never definitively explained whether or not Alister had PTSD in the previous chapter; it was only an implication. The answer to that query, in my mind, is a surprising _**no. **_Why, you ask?_

_The Orichalcos has a nasty habit of drawing out the worst in an individual. Alister is withdrawn, aloof, doesn't trust people, and keeps to himself—not because of PTSD, however. In the anime we saw Alister as a child and he acted fairly close to how he does in this setting; by that point he had been fairly desensitized to it all (with the exception of Miruko's death, but again we saw that he moved past it fairly quickly when "Gozaburo" came into the picture). Desensitization is usually a treatment most therapists go for when treating post traumatic stress disorder, which dulls the impact that the memories have on an individual affected by trauma, such as war. That doesn't mean, however, that Alister's going to discuss those war-filled days with anyone—they're the thing of nightmares._

_And those are the kind of memories the Orichalcos thrives most off of. It exacerbated the negative aspects of Alister's personality, which can give the impression that he had PTSD; it also drew on Alister's dreams and tossed in a dark memory or two, trapping Alister in it (and causing the catatonic states). What eventually ended up happening was that the combined pressure of the Orichalcos and the way it was twisting Alister's memories around finally caused him to snap in his second duel against Kaiba._

_…God, all this psychological stuff makes my head hurt._


	162. Spiders and Bedrooms

_Oh dear. I've been having trouble logging in and this is one of the times I can do it; unfortunately I haven't finished the latest chapter for "The Princess and the Dragon" and I'm still working on it. I should have it up sometime this weekend, but seeing how as I said something similar last time...eh._

_Anyways, my bunnies were hit with this idea and it wouldn't go away, soo here's a chapter for "Come Together" for your reading pleasure. This one is set post-DOOM and I hope you enjoy this!_

* * *

Raphael grimaced at the sight that met his eyes when he opened Valon's bedroom door. He readjusted the pile of clean clothes in his arms and studied the room, trying to best figure out how to get inside without either stepping on or tripping over anything (and risk breaking his neck). "Valon!"

The teenager seemed to have been searching for something, as it took him some time before he peered around the corner of his closet, a stray sock nestled in his hair; whether the Australian was aware of this was something Raphael did not know. "Wha's up?"

"I can't even get in here," said the blond, gingerly trying to step over a knee-high pile of clothes and giving up entirely. "You're cleaning this room up before you go anywhere today."

The teenager pouted. "Raph, c'mon. i's _my_ bedroom! I can live in 'ere, 'n' tha's just fine! No one else is comin' in 'ere anyways."

Alister, who had been passing by them on his way downstairs, stopped and examined the situation curiously. His gray eyes went to the mess in the younger biker's bedroom and grimaced. "Valon, your bedroom _stinks_. I can smell the dirty socks from downstairs and I'm convinced that whatever is in that pile in the corner just moved."

Valon waved a hand dismissively at them. "I can 'andle it. We're men, aren' we s'pposed t'—"

"There is a fine line between 'bachelor mess' and 'good God what is this crap?'. Guess which side of the line you're on?" Alister asked, one of his eyebrows raising dubiously.

"You're both tidy blokes, though," Valon argued. "'ow do I know tha' you're not just exaggeratin' 'bout my room?"

Raphael arched an eyebrow. "You've been in Marik's home before, correct?"

"Yeah?"

"Is his bedroom this messy?"

"…No…"

"How about Shizuka's room, or Jounouchi's?"

"Mate, I'd 'ave t' be desperate or suicidal t' go into Jounouchi's bedroom—possibly both."

"Either way, though, who do you know that has a bedroom this messy?" asked Raphael, folding his arms across his chest and looking expectantly at the younger biker.

Valon wilted slightly. "No one," he admitted reluctantly.

"Exactly. Straighten it up, please."

Now the teenager looked horrified. "But Raph, 'ow am I s'pposed t' clean all that mess up? 'sides, I couldn' stand it if my room was as clean as yours 'n' Alister's all the time, I'd go mad! It's a bad idea, chum…nope, sorry, but I'm not doin' it."

Raphael exchanged glances with Alister before he let out a sigh. "I'm going to have to resort to _that_ after all."

* * *

"Raph's not playin' fair," Valon grumbled as he dropped another armful of soda cans into the trashcan.

Alister rolled his eyes and set about dusting the ceiling fan. "He confiscated your keys and your cell phone—honestly, Valon, that was tamer than what I was planning to do."

"Tha's still not fair," came the irritably muttered response as Valon stomped back to the closet. There was no real ire in his words, though, and he came out of the closet with a handful of trash. "By the way, thanks f'r 'elpin'."

Alister grunted. He had not exactly volunteered for this task, but Raphael had asked for him to help; given that it was Valon who was cleaning and the size of the mess there was a real guarantee that Valon would only make things messier and not get anything done, so he declined to comment and resumed cleaning.

The two of them spent about two hours tackling the piles of assorted junk on the floor and either throwing things away or restoring them to their proper place; it was startling when Alister kept finding things that belonged to someone else in the mess, such as one of Raphael's books, a glove belonging to Alister, and in one bizarre instance a pair of girl's jeans—Valon's defense was that Shizuka had come over once while it had been raining and she'd borrowed a pair of his pants to wait while her clothes dried out.

Alister had been busy sorting through the mess on Valon's dresser (and grimacing at the moldy apple core he'd unearthed) when he heard an alarmed wail from under the bed, where Valon was pulling things out to be thrown away or put away. Seconds later they younger biker backed out from under the bed and sprinted for the door—Alister had to grab his arm to stop him from leaving. "What?"

"Spider, spider, oh God Alister, i's HUGE!" Valon replied in a rush. "I dunno 'ow it got tha' big, but it's a real doozy 'n' it's under my bed!"

The redhead rolled his eyes. "Valon, you are bigger than that spider, and I'm sure you're exaggerating—"

In the next second something scurried out of the depths of the area beneath Valon's bed and made for where the two of them were standing. Out of instinct Alister grabbed the broom and swiped at it, knocking it into the air and onto the bed; the sound of outraged clicking came from the mattress and the red-haired man focused on it. When he did, though, Alister honestly froze. "…Valon."

"Wha'?"

"When was the last time you cleaned your room?"

"Er—"

"Rephrase: how messy does your room have to be in order for you not to notice the _tarantula_ living in it?" Alister half snarled, watching the large spider in some trepidation—that thing had to be as big as his hand, possibly larger.

The teenager shook his head, backing away in visible alarm when the spider leapt off the mattress and began scuttling to them; it seemed the spider was trying to get out, but the way it was angrily clicking its fangs caused Alister to sincerely doubt that. "I dunno, mate, but I'm not stickin' around t' find out!" Valon cried, scrambling behind Alister.

There was an odd yowl and then Misa was upon the tarantula, batting at it with an almost gaily air; the fact that its fangs were out and could possibly do more than harm her was lost on the feline. She probably thought this to be some game, Alister thought wryly. The fur on her tail puffed out and she reared onto her hind legs shortly after the spider lunged at her.

Alister took this chance to bring the broom down on the tarantula, startling Misa enough to cause her bolt to the bed. When he lifted the broom, though, it was to find the spider was gone; Misa returned to the spot and started sniffing the area curiously.

Valon was peering over Alister's shoulder anxiously and took a step forward. "Is it gone, mate?"

"I don't know," Alister began, but a sudden hunch made him look at the bristles on the end of the broom—or rather, at the tarantula scurrying up the pole toward his hand.

He barely had time to drop it before the tarantula sank its fangs into his hand, but unfortunately when he dropped it the spider landed next to Valon's bare foot. Annoyed at its current treatment and apparently deciding it had enough, the spider bit the top of the boy's foot and Valon let out a startled wail. "OW OW OW GEDDITOFFOWWW!"

The tarantula flew off his foot and into the air, hitting the floor and rearing onto its hind legs. Alister growled and reached for a dictionary he'd unearthed while he'd been cleaning. He raised the book over his head and unceremoniously slammed it on top of the spider—there was a loud and rather horrifying _squelch_ and Alister glared at what had been the tarantula. "Dictionary one, giant spider zip. Game over."

Misa meowed and padded over to investigate, but the redhead scooped up the cat into his arms. "Easy there, Misa," he chided, placing her on his shoulders. "I don't want to find out that thing's still alive, even if I squished it. Valon, you can quit trembling back there, it's dead…Valon?"

He blinked when he heard the sound of raspy breathing behind him and turned to examine Valon, whose eyes had gone wide and whose face getting paler by the second; beneath Valon's hands Alister could see the boy's foot swelling rapidly.

He stared at this sight for a few seconds before letting out a strangled snarl. "_You've got to be kidding me."_

* * *

"I told you blokes cleanin' my room was a bad idea," Valon muttered, scowling at his bandaged foot.

Raphael ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. "In my defense, Valon, I didn't know there was a tarantula in there. Besides, it's a good thing you did clean up—I don't know what would have happened if you'd gotten bitten in your sleep," he said. "How's your foot?"

"It 'urts," Valon said flatly. "So does my leg," he continued, gesturing to an area on his thigh.

Alister shrugged when Raphael turned an inquisitive look on him. "We had one epi-pen left from the first time Valon had to go in for that bee sting and I had to use it on him…it seems something in the venom is what causes the allergy," he replied. "We probably should take him in later, just to be sure that everything's all right."

"Stupid good f'r nothing bugs. Jus' great, now I gotta worry 'bout spiders killin' me as well as bees?"

Alister shook his head. "I doubt it, Valon. Tarantulas have a bit more concentrated venom in their bite than regular spiders. Besides, you got spider bites back in DOOM and you never had a reaction to them then—as long as there aren't any more errant tarantulas running around you'll be fine."

Ellie was also watching the boy in some pity and she reached into her purse, rummaging through it for some nameless object; Raphael turned his head to look down at her curiously. "I made these earlier," she said at last, handing Valon a small bag of cookies. "They're a little crumbled, since they were in my purse, but you can have them if it'll make you feel better."

The Australian grinned, brightening up immediately as he took the bag. "Thanks, Ellie," he said, munching contentedly on one of the sugar cookies.

A small smile tugged at the corner of Raphael's mouth at this, but then he was frowning again as he looked to the dictionary sitting on the table (and the tissues covering what was left of the tarantula's body still smeared across the cover—they would probably have to get rid of that book now). "How did a tarantula even get here, let alone inside the house? They aren't native to this area," he said, folding his arms across his chest.

There was a knock on their door and Misa, who had been perched on the top of the couch, promptly leapt down and scurried out of sight. At the same time Ellie crossed the room and peered out through the window, surprise lighting her features.

Alister went to the door and peered through the peephole. "I think I know the answer to that question, Raphael," he said, annoyance coloring his voice. "It's our old friend, the eccentric professor who lives across the road. How much do you people want to bet that he's here looking for a tarantula?"


	163. Candy Necklaces and Darts

_My plot bunnies seem to like Alister lately. I'm not sure if it's a good thing or a bad thing._

_So a conversation with my brother, coupled with the nagging sensation of one of you guys asking me about this topic (I KNOW someone has, but for the life of me I can't remember who brought it up) has inspired this bunny; this is not the Valentine's Day shot, but that one will get posted in the next couple of days._

_By the way, "The Princess and the Dragon" should be updated tonight. I'm trying to gain access to it in my account, and a couple of times I've nearly had it. "If at first you don't succeed, try try again", right?_

_Set during DOOM, sometime after ch. 136 ("Treacherous Terrain") and…ehm…enjoy…?_

_(Alister, I apologize in advance)_

* * *

To be fair, they had all thought everyone in the compound had their souls taken.

They had been dealing with a corrupt businessman whose home was located off one of the many beaches in Florida; in order to get at the man, however, the ten or so guards who patrolled the premises had to be dealt with.

Gurimo had taken Raphael and Mai with him to deal with the guards before they would take down the businessman, who would be returning later on that evening; by the time Alister and Valon had arrived with the helicopter to take them off the island the three other DOOM warriors had things pretty much wrapped up. The businessman was currently holed up his office when they had arrived and really all they were there to do was act as back-up in case something went wrong.

Mai took their arrival as her chance to leave, taking off on her motorcycle and driving away before anyone could stop her; Paradius was only an hour's drive from their location, though the helicopter was a much faster means of transport.

The monocled man had assured them that all of the guards had their souls taken when they had arrived, but Alister did not believe him in the slightest—he remembered all too clearly what had happened the last time Gurimo had assured them of anything. He had checked the first floor and, upon not finding anything, went to the second to make sure all the guards were taken care of; Valon tagged along, mostly because he didn't want to wait by himself at the helicopter.

They'd been passing by a veranda when one of the bodies on the ground had shifted, leaping to their feet nimbly; clearly Gurimo had missed one of the thugs, who had decided to bide his time and play dead.

Valon, who'd not seen him in time, had stumbled backward—Alister shoved him out of the way just before the man leveled a gun at them and fired, and he let out a grunt of surprised pain as something slammed into his arm. Nonetheless he'd started fighting the assailant almost immediately; there was no time to use the Orichalcos on him and he would have to weaken the other man before he would be able to use it.

It had seemed that Alister would win until he executed a perfect roundhouse kick. This was not troublesome at all, and in fact was expected during a fight—except this kick was three feet to the left of his opponent, missing him entirely.

That was when Valon got worried. Alister never missed anything.

The other biker's knees buckled abruptly and he toppled sideways, accidentally shoving the man off the balcony outside; there was a startled cry and a loud crash as his former opponent landed on heaven knew what, but whatever had been landed on sounded incredibly hard.

Alister remained where he was on the ground outside, blinking owlishly at the dark sky with far too glassy and bloodshot gray eyes.

"Alister!" Valon cried, reaching the other man's side in seconds and helping him sit up. "Alister, wha's wrong?"

The redhead looked pleasantly surprised to see the Australian beside him. His head tilted crazily to the left before he lifted the Orichalcos pendant around his neck. "Why are we wearin' candy?" he asked at last, looking utterly confused.

Valon stared. "What?" he asked, confusion replacing his concern.

Alister shrugged carelessly. "It's candy, isn' it?" he asked, his voice slurring now. He started swaying violently where he sat. "Why am I wearing it? I don'…I don' like candy. Is there a party somewhere?"

"…Are you finally losin' your mind, chum? Is tha' wha's goin' on 'ere?" Valon asked uncertainly, thoroughly at a loss as to what he should do.

"Valon, what happened?"

Raphael's gruff voice from behind him was never a more welcome sound. Valon turned in time to spot the blond biker and Gurimo coming toward them. They must have seen the man Alister had knocked off the balcony from where they were below and had come to investigate.

"I dunno," Valon replied helplessly, gesturing to the man beside him (who was now studying his gloves with all the fascination of a small child). "'e's actin' all loopy."

Raphael frowned. "What do you mean?"

Gurimo's nose wrinkled in disgust when his eyes landed on Alister but said nothing, instead studying the card with the businessman's soul currently inside it. He passed them by, leaned over the railing on the balcony, and looked at where Alister's assailant had landed. He scowled, then move past them and disappeared from sight, going back down the stairs; a few minutes later there was a flash of green light from below them and a pained cry—Gurimo had solved the problem involving the remaining guard.

"There was this one bloke tha' Kuriboh musta missed or somethin'. 'e shot somethin' at us 'n' then Alister started fightin' 'im and—well, this is the result," Valon explained, gesturing to the lanky man.

Raphael's eyes, however, had gone to Alister. Something caught the blond's eye and he strode forward, plucking something out of the back of Alister's forearm and studying the object with a darkening expression. Gurimo came back up the stairs, nonchalantly putting a second card inside his cloak. "Well?" he asked impatiently. "What's happened now?"

"This might be the problem," Raphael replied, holding the dart up grimly as he came back over to the doorway.

Gurimo finally seemed to take an interest in this latest turn of events. "Is it poisoned?" he asked, sounding a bit too hopeful as he came alongside Raphael to peer down at the dart.

Valon stared in horror. "It better not be!"

"If it was meant to kill, Alister would be dead by now," said Raphael, watching the other young man with some concern.

Gurimo looked far too disappointed by this, but he reluctantly agreed. "They'd want any intruder dead quickly if they did use poisoned darts, so that's clearly not the intention here."

"So then wha' was it s'pposed t' do?" asked Valon, looking anxious.

Gurimo huffed. "Isn't it obvious, boy?" he said snidely. "It's meant to slow you down! No doubt this devil likes capturing intruders alive to do Heaven knows what to them. I wouldn't put it past this man to have that sort of nature."

It was at this point that Alister completely straightened up to glare venomously at Raphael. "H's anyone ever told you how much of a complete _failure_ at life you are?" he asked.

All three of the other men stared at Alister with something akin to shock, stunned into silence. Raphael looked oddly cornered.

"I mean it, man. You're, like, a complete j'rk half the time. What, you have some inferiority complex or somethin'? I mean, jeez. Lay off f'r once and let me alone, you, you… hom'cidal freak," he continued, pointing at a stunned Raphael emphatically.

Valon hesitated before he _very_ cautiously moved Alister's shaking hand to point it at Gurimo.

Alister's face scrunched up in confusion and he rubbed his eyes, squinting at Gurimo for a moment before his stormy expression cleared. "Oh. There you are, Jerk Face," he said, as if he had not just been corrected. "Anyways, yer a real loser."

An affronted expression appeared on Gurimo's features. Raphael looked immeasurably relieved but understandably concerned.

Valon, on the other hand, studied Alister for a few long moments before he suddenly burst out laughing. "Oh _God_, 'e's drunk!" he roared in laughter. "I never thought I'd see the day! I c'n die 'appy now!"

Alister blinked. "I haven' had water 'nd dying is stupid. B'cause…b'cause it is. So don't do it."

Raphael sighed. "He's not drunk, just drugged," he said, helping a heavily listing Alister to his feet. "We'd better get back to Paradius and get him checked out."

The redhead was apparently not done with his tirade against Gurimo. The group was looking at an Alister whose shields had been taken down by whatever drug he was suffering from and clearly had no qualms against voicing his opinion. "It's hot out here…I bet Gur'mo broke the wind," he said sulkily. "It won' blow around him. It hates him. So do I, because he's a jerk. An ugly, balding jerk—and he smells. Like, seriously. He smells like fish and garbage."

"If you say so, Alister," said Raphael patiently, steering him away from a seething Gurimo and ignoring Valon's laughter.

The red-haired biker frowned as the group started going down the stairs, mulling something over before he asked, "Are we goin' to a party?"

Raphael raised an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"

"_Ba_-cause," Alister scoffed, sounding as if it should be obvious, "You and Jerk Face there have candy necklaces, 'n' Valon's got a candy ring."

Valon grinned wickedly. The chance to gain vengeance against the redhead for everything that had been done to him was presenting itself all too clearly, and Valon would be a fool to pass this up. "Oh yeah, didn' we tell you? Dartz is 'ostin' this wicked party downtown t'night. It'll 'ave the Power Rangers 'n' the Gummy Bears performin' in the ice rink. I think 'arry Potter's gonna be there too. It'll be honorin', um…Ronald McDonald."

Alister frowned again, looking thoroughly annoyed. "I hate parties," he grumbled, leaning heavily against Raphael as they reached the landing. "Why didn' you tell me?"

"Dartz jus' told us ten minutes ago," said Valon, purposefully ignoring the stern look Raphael was shooting at him. He was having too much fun at Alister's expense and this was probably the only time he would get away with it. "We'd better get goin' b'fore we end up late."

* * *

It was a rather long ride back to Paradius; it was fortunate that Raphael had been learning how to pilot air vehicles, because Alister was in no condition to pilot the helicopter back to Paradius—they'd send someone to get Raphael's and Gurimo's motorcycles later.

Alister, though he was still muttering nonsensical things under his breath, seemed to be at least partially aware of his surroundings and finally managed to regain some semblance of control over himself halfway through the flight (in that he only said something once every ten minutes or so, clearly fighting against the drug).

Before this feat had been accomplished, though, he spent the first half of the ride coming up with every insult he could think of and directing them at Gurimo; it had been more for the safety of the redhead that Valon had been seated between them. This did not help matters, since Valon could not get over the fact that the normally stoic redhead could not control anything and could not help adding on to the conversation.

Then of course Alister's attention had gone to Valon and the Australian stopped finding it so funny.

By the time they had gotten back to the company both Valon's and Gurimo's patience had been almost entirely shot. "Get him to the infirmary," Gurimo ground out with gritted teeth as he practically flew from the helicopter, not waiting until the helicopter blades had stopped spinning before storming inside.

"Come on, chum," said Valon, helping Alister out of the seat. "Le's get you fixed up."

Alister tottered to his feet and nearly knocked Valon over. "Don' wanna walk. Can't see straight," he muttered, his legs violently wobbling in place. Nonetheless, he and Valon both got out of the helicopter without falling over and Raphael came over to help.

"Let's just get him to the doctor, before anything else happens," said Raphael tiredly, directing Alister to the nearest elevator and ushering them both inside.

Alister said very little on their way down (aside from a startled gasp when the elevator started descending: "Are we falling?") and continued to keep quiet as they made their way to the infirmary; it looked as if they would get there without any further incident.

And then Mai came around the corner, effectively dashing that hope.

"So you losers made it back?" she asked haughtily, and Raphael growled. He was not in the mood for this.

Neither, apparently, was Alister. "Losers? Look in the mir'or. Maybe you oughta try out f'r the circus. _You_ look like a_ clown_," he said, his eyes crossing briefly. He paused before he added conversationally, "Would you like a face with that make-up?"

Mai bristled. "And what does that mean?" she asked hotly, glaring at the redhead and looking as if she might slap him.

Valon moved between the two parties hastily. "Alister's kinda feelin' under the weather, Mai," he said. "It's prob'ly a good idea t' jus' kinda stay away from 'im 'til he feels better."

Mai directed her heated gaze at them all before she huffed and whirled on her heel. "Whatever. You dorks have fun doing whatever it is you're doing," she said without turning, stalking to the elevator and stepping inside.

"Good rid'ance," muttered Alister when she left. "Clown needs t' go back t' circus."

Valon looked as if he was going to protest this, but Raphael shook his head. They did not need to antagonize their friend any further—the drug seemed to be starting to wear off, but until Alister was entirely back to normal it would be best not to say anything that would cause the redhead to launch into another insult-laden tirade.

Aside from this brief encounter with Mai, though, it seemed like they would be allowed to progress in peace—they were in actual sight of the doorway to the infirmary ten minutes later. They were going to make it.

Then, much to their horror, Dartz stepped out of the conference room that was located across from the infirmary. His eyes went to Alister directly and his eyebrows rose. "What has happened?" he asked.

Raphael handed Alister off to Valon and stepped forward to explain. The youngest biker practically dragged the redhead into the room, but only a few seconds passed before Alister leaned around the doorframe and asked a politely puzzled, "Did you borrow Miss Loudmouth Clown's make-up, Master Da'tz?"


	164. Hey There, Fuzzy

_I'm HORRIBLE._

_I was going to have this on Valentine's Day, but then my bunnies got hit with the previous chapter. Then came the projects that I was forced to scramble around like a chicken with its head cut off for, and then after that I had to try and make FanFiction work for me for "The Princess and the Dragon". So then I thought, "Let's have it up on Leap Day."_

_…That plan obviously fell through._

_Anyways, set pre-canon and a happy birthday Alister (he turned twenty-one—wow)_

* * *

The phone on Jonathan's desk rang and he jumped. He'd been completely engrossed in editing the column and he had been so focused that the sound of the phone ringing honestly scared him.

He glared at the still ringing device and vowed revenge as he answered the phone. "Hello?"

"_Hello, Jonathan," _came Rosalie's cheerful voice over the phone. _"How are you doing?"_

He relaxed, smiling wearily as he held the phone to his ear. "I'm doing fine. Debating on whether or not to break a pen over the top of my current project just so I can leave early," he replied, frowning at the sound of chatter in the background. "Rosie, what's going on at home? Are the neighbors over?"

"_Oh, um…I'm not at home." _Rosalie's voice was still cheerful, but it held an odd edge to it that instantly pulled a frown onto his face. 

"Rosie, are you all right?" he asked. "You sound a bit…off."

"_'You sound a bit off'? Is that all you can come up with? Come now, Jonathan, you're an editor in chief for the town's newspaper," _she joked, but then her breath came in a pained hiss. "_Oh, and…I'm sorry, sweetie, but I kind of wrecked the car."_

"Okay. So how was your—wait, you did _what?_" Jonathan half rose from his seat. "Rosalie, are you hurt?"

"_You're worried. You don't call me that unless you're worried."_

"Of course I am. What, you were expecting me to be the picture of calm when my pregnant wife gets into a car accident?" he asked testily, though inwardly he was relieved. If Rosalie had been badly injured she would not be cracking jokes...but still, she had to have come to some harm if those pained whimpers on the other end of the phone were any indication. "How badly are you hurt?"

"_No one was harmed, thank God—I was only rear-ended. The car's fine."_

_"_I'm not asking about the car, love."

_"…"_

"Rosie?"

Another hiss of breath came from the other end of the phone, followed by a stifled whimper that actually had him get to his feet. "_I wasn't hurt, but…Jonathan, remember what the doctors said about the baby? About how he was supposed to come closer to the end of February?"_

Of course Jonathan remembered. Rosalie was in the last weeks of her pregnancy and their son was projected to be born at the end of the month. "What does this have to do with you, Rosie?" he asked slowly, though he had a distinct feeling that he already knew where the conversation was heading.

"…_Jonathan, I don't think I really need to spell it out much further, do I?" _

Jonathan pulled the phone away from his ear, stared at it in complete disbelief until he heard Rosalie's worried voice on the other end calling for him, and then put it back to his ear. It had been one thing to suspect it, but it was another thing entirely to confirm it. "Are you…you're not having the baby _right now_, are you?" he asked, flabbergasted.

"_I'm afraid so, sweetie."_

"But…but he's two weeks early."

_"Tell that to the baby."_

There was a long pause, in which he could hear Rosalie's stifled whimpers and the sounds of the hospital she had to be at right now; she'd been quiet for so long that he'd been given the chance to identify the sounds of bustling nurses and hospital chatter in the background from her end. At last, she said a very quiet, "_Jonathan, I'm scared."_

That snapped him out of the dazed reverie he'd gone into. "All right. All right, Rosie, I'm coming," he said firmly. "I'm on the way right now, all right?"

"_…My knight in shining armor is coming?"_

"Obviously, and I'll even make you some chocolate chip cookies," he replied with a tight laugh, trying to put Rosalie at ease.

"_Jonathan I love you, but your cookies have much to be—ow ow ow ow _OW!_"_

That prompted Jonathan to say a hasty goodbye and hang up, already reaching for his coat and almost sprinting from the room. He nearly bumped into his boss as he went for the stairs. The other man yelped as Jonathan passed him and said a surprised, "Where are you going?"

Jonathan had no idea what he said in response, but from the startled, almost disbelieving expression being shot at him when he glanced over his shoulder he could tell that it was something he'd get embarrassed by later. He had a few more pressing issues on his mind, though—most of them focused on getting to the hospital.

* * *

"He's so little," said Jonathan in a hushed voice, peering down at the bundle of blankets his wife was holding. The blankets added a lot more bulk to their son's body, who was much smaller than all appearances suggested; the blue blanket almost seemed to be swallowing him and at the moment all he could see was a mess of dark red hair.

Rosalie arched an eyebrow at her husband. "Is that all you can say, Jonathan?" she asked with weary amusement. "Such an eloquent editor you are."

Jonathan mimicked her dubious expression. "Squiffle bib ickety boo," he retorted.

The newest member of their family, Alister Ioan Gayle, yawned widely and looked up at his parents with sleep-clouded gray eyes. One of his hands came out from under the blanket and he let out a little sneeze; Jonathan almost automatically took the tiny hand in his fingers, holding it gently. Alister's entire body was covered in small, fine hairs, but the doctors assured the new parents that it would disappear in a few weeks—it gave the baby the appearance of being covered in peach fuzz, however.

"Hey there, fuzzy," he said, looking to Rosalie for permission. She carefully handed the baby to him (the delivery had been a rough one) and leaned back into the pillows. Jonathan easily adjusted the almost nonexistent weight in his arms and settled back in the chair.

The baby swiveled his gray eyes toward his father and the tiny hand in his fingers tightened. Jonathan could almost swear his son was scowling at him, even though it was far too early for the baby to know how to show any emotions.

"Oh, so you don't like being called fuzzy? Too bad, munchkin. I call it as I see it," he said good-naturedly. "You're like your mother—she hates being called Rosie, even though I'm her husband."

He paused. "So I guess calling you 'Al' is out, then?"

"Don' you dare," mumbled Rosalie sleepily, starting to nod off. "You're an ed'tor. Come up with somethin' else."

As soon as Rosalie said it, though, Jonathan remembered what he had said to his co-worker in the office and sighed, prompting his wife and son to look at him. "I need to make a call to the office about the article I was editing," he said sheepishly. "I ran out before I was finished with it—besides, I think my boss is under the impression that 'my car's baby is having a wife'."


	165. Cliffhanger

_Hello, everybody!_

_I'm back and I come bearing multiple updates for my stories. Raphael's __(incredibly belated) birthday shot may not get put up until much later, but for now I have something for you to make up for my absence._

_This one is set during DOOM and I hope you enjoy it!_

_EDIT: Apparently there was an upload error. It's fixed now :D_

* * *

Raphael and Alister both cast a glance at the blank space that Valon usually filled, one worried and the other slightly annoyed. Valon knew better than to show up late for a meeting, especially when Dartz was the one who called it; being on time had been a lesson that Valon had learned early in his time at DOOM. They couldn't imagine where Valon could be.

Neither, apparently, could Dartz—and he was none too happy that Valon was not there. "You are dismissed. When you locate Valon let him know that I wish to see him," he said coldly.

Mai rolled her eyes. "He's probably sleeping," she said irritably.

Gurimo snorted. "More than likely he's deliberately skipping this meeting. He's not reliable at all," he commented snidely.

Alister's eyes narrowed. "Okay, anti-Valon club. Do us all a favor and go find a corner somewhere to go make out in," he said coolly, ignoring the outraged splutters from both Mai and Gurimo.

"Save your petty arguments for when I am not in the room," said Dartz calmly, though an undercurrent of annoyance ran through his words. "I do not care as to the reason why he skipped the meeting. Find him and have him see me."

Raphael bowed and then caught Alister's arm, dragging him from the room before he could start up with Mai and Gurimo again. "Don't do that in front of Master Dartz," he chided once they were out of the hall.

Alister shrugged. "It's not my fault that they're so easy to rile up," he said, perfectly at ease. "So where _is_ Valon anyways?"

"I don't know," said Raphael with a troubled frown. "I saw him last in the resident's hall, so he might be there still. He said he needed to do something but that he wouldn't be late."

"Well obviously he didn't get it done, whatever it was," Alister commented wryly. "We'll start there."

The two of them went first to Valon's room to see if he was inside; they didn't find Valon, but they did find a large mess in the room that included three weeks worth of laundry (which smelled absolutely awful and had both of them backing away from the overfilled hamper hastily—the moment Dartz was done with him they were making the Australian do his laundry).

Alister closed the door behind him with a grimace. "How does he live like that?"

"With much practice, I'm sure," said Raphael, wrinkling his nose as he caught a whiff of the laundry again. "But he wasn't in there."

"He might be in Miss Loudmouth's room, or in the geezer's," Alister pointed out boredly. "He may be in the common room, or he might be somewhere else. Either way, though, he'll turn up. I'll leave it to you to find him."

When Raphael shot him an annoyed look the redhead's eyebrows rose. "You're his babysitter, you figure out where he went. It's not my concern, now is it?"

Alister did not bother getting an answer, instead vanishing into his room. He strode across the space and flopped onto his bed, resting comfortably on it and closing his eyes. He had not gotten too much sleep the night before and the idea of a nap was tempting; the weather outside was rainy and overcast because of a system of storms that was passing through.

He had been about to successfully doze off when he realized that he could smell the ocean outside—which was not supposed to be possible, since he had shut the windows. He sat up on his elbow and frowned, noticing the way his window was cracked open, and he stared at it in confusion. Who on earth had—

He promptly scowled. Valon must have snuck into his room when he'd separated from Raphael, likely to pull a prank. Then he'd probably left the room via the window; Alister had locked his bedroom door after the first few times the Australian had set his room up for a prank, but he must have realized that there was a path from Raphael's bedroom window to Alister's (something Alister had kept largely under wraps, but given Valon's penchant for exploration he didn't doubt the teenager had figured it out at some point).

He growled when a gust of wind blew the window entirely open. He leaned out to catch the edge of the window and tug it shut.

"Alister!"

He jumped at the sound of the voice and looked around in confusion. That was Valon's voice, but where was it coming from?

"Alister, 'elp!"

"Please tell me he's not where I think he is," he muttered, a sinking feeling starting in the pit of his stomach. He hesitated for a moment before he looked down, ignoring the sudden vertigo that came with looking nearly one hundred feet down.

He nearly missed it at first because Valon's hair and clothes matched the colors of the cliff, but then he saw a pale, scared face peering up at him thirty feet beneath his window and he drew in a sharp breath. "Valon, what in God's name are you doing down there?" he asked furiously.

The soaking wet Australian clung to the side of the cliff disconsolately, fear plainly visible on his features. "I'd tell ya, but I think this patch o' dirt 'm on is 'bout t' give under me. Alister, please," he whined, shuddering with both cold and terror. "Don' leave me down 'ere!"

"I'm not," he said, finding his voice at last. "Hang on. I'm getting Raphael. Don't move."

The teenager let out a strangled laugh. "No worries 'bout tha', chum," he said, then yelped as he abruptly sank a few inches down the side of the cliff. "Alister, 'urry!"

The redhead promptly moved away from the window. "Raphael!" he shouted, pulling his door open and hurrying into the hallway. "We need a rope, right now!"

* * *

Valon burrowed into the quilt wrapped around his shoulders, sagging in relief. Raphael had taken one of the spare quilts and had run it through the dryer for twenty minutes; he'd taken one look at the thoroughly soaked and chilled Australian after they had hauled him back up before disappearing into the laundry room. "Thanks," he said gratefully, accepting the cup of hot cocoa Raphael offered him.

Raphael rolled his aching shoulders and grunted. "Don't mention it."

It had not been easy to get Valon back up the side of the cliff. When he had fallen his leg had gone through the ledge he'd landed on, trapping his leg up to the knee; the fact he had not broken any bones had been a miracle, but any movement was bound to break the ledge and send Valon plummeting down into the ocean—a seventy foot drop that would certainly kill him.

Alister had no other choice but to scale down the side of the cliff to help Valon. Raphael had remained in the bedroom to hold the rope since there were no anchor points in the room that would give the maximum length of rope they needed to reach Valon. It had taken them the better part of twenty minutes before they finally got Valon back into the temple; Gurimo had showed up while Raphael had been hauling the other two bikers up and promptly went to tell Dartz (who was currently watching them from the back of the common room).

Alister took the other cup of hot chocolate off the tray. "Now, do you mind explaining what you were doing that caused you to take an impromptu lesson in rock climbing?" he asked with barely concealed annoyance.

Valon grinned at them sheepishly. "Well, I was goin' t' set somethin up f'r April Fools in your room, Alister, but you'd locked your door. So I remembered tha' you've got a path righ' outside your window 'n' decided t' get in your room tha' way," he said, grimacing when he accidentally took too large of a gulp of the hot beverage. "I was righ' outside the window and I'd gotten your window open, 'n' then the next thing I know I was fallin'."

"The storms that passed through this area must have weakened that path," commented Dartz at last, drawing the attention of all three bikers. He looked oddly exhausted, though this was an expression that most people assumed when dealing with Valon-based stupidity. "You were incredibly lucky that you only received cuts and bruises for your trouble. As it is, though, you _were _late for the meeting and there is paperwork from Paradius that needs the seal of approval on them. You'll start on it tomorrow."

Valon stared in complete outrage but held his tongue until Dartz left the room. "Are you friggin' kiddin' me?" he asked, looking indignantly to his friends. "I nearly died 'n' 'e's makin' me do paperwork?"

* * *

Dartz made it to his chambers before sinking wearily onto his bed, holding an arm over his eyes as he leaned into the pillows. Thank the gods he'd been paying attention and had listened to the gentle urging of the Orichalcos; when it had shown him what had happened to Valon he'd nearly had a heart attack. His plans were coming together and they would be striking against the Nameless Pharaoh in a matter of months.

He could not afford to lose one of his Swordsmen to their own stupidity, so until Alister had managed to get Valon to safety Dartz had used the power of the Orichalcos to hold the crumbling ledge together. It had been strenuous and had taken a lot of effort, but Dartz had succeeded and now he was going to take a well deserved nap. He needed to stop caring so much for his Swordsmen—next time they got into some crisis they were on their own.

…He'd said the exact same thing countless times before now, though, so he doubted this would be the last time he'd intervene on their behalf.


	166. Winter Nights, Soldiers, and Chocolate

_A friend of mine who follows this story asked specifically for this particular chapter and my bunnies instantly leapt on it; they've been looking for an excuse to write this chapter for ages and then my friend finally gave them the fuel they needed to write it._

_Set pre-canon, in Alister's childhood, and I hope you all like it!_

* * *

The soldier caught Alister completely off guard when he'd stumbled down the snow-covered hill.

Alister had moved himself and his brother outside of the city for the moment, due to the artillery fire that was raining down on it; it was not safe inside the city walls, not even in the underground shelters, and he'd finally moved Miruko out into the surrounding forest.

Miruko had caught cold a week ago and it was threatening to turn into something worse if something was not done. Alister had done whatever he could to find his younger brother blankets and medicine, as well as food; he'd even risked entering the city while artillery shells had exploded all around him. All he had to show for his efforts, however, was several thin, fraying blankets, three cans of peaches, and no medicine. He could not reach the field hospital, though, because it would require taking Miruko through the artillery fire and he was _not_ about to risk his brother's life in that fashion.

The two of them had been taking refuge in a small hollow in the hillside that Alister had dug himself with a broken shovel; he had lined the hole with tarp and blankets and then wrapped Miruko in the remaining blankets, the only source of warmth coming from a fire he'd made in one of the large peach cans. Alister had been just about to risk going back into town to find medicine when he'd heard something crashing through the underbrush and he'd spotted the soldier tumbling directly in front of them.

Alister instantly put himself in between his sleeping brother and the intruder, who had seen them as he had sat back up. He could not tell if this man was on their side or not and he suddenly wished he had some sort of weapon. If it came down to it, however, he would fight this man himself to keep Miruko safe.

Both sides remained still for one long moment, and then the older man cleared his throat. He was scruffy and looked in need of a hot shower, and he was wearing winter attire. His helmet had fallen off, showing closely cropped black hair. His eyes took in Alister's defensive posture, then shifted to where Miruko was visible, and seemed to come to some conclusion.

"Hi there," the man said at last, a friendly note injected into his words.

Alister stiffened, his eyes narrowing.

"No, no. I'm not going to hurt you," assured the man hastily, misinterpreting Alister's glare. He held up his hands to show he had no weapon. "I'm from the supply line, I'm unarmed. I don't shoot kids, anyways."

Alister's eyes swiveled to the rifle that lay mere inches from the man's foot and he raised a pointed eyebrow.

The man followed Alister's gaze to the gun. "Oh, that. Well, I don't know whether there's any carnivorous wildlife out here, so…yeah. I know you probably don't believe me."

Alister didn't. Not even for a second.

The man sighed, then picked up the rifle. Alister's eyes widened in alarm, but he did not move—if he did, it would only put Miruko in the line of fire and there was no way in the world that he was risking his younger brother's safety.

To his surprise, however, the man tossed the gun into the brush. "There, see? I'm not your enemy," he said, repeating the same process to his knife. "Now I'm completely unarmed."

He reached slowly to his bag and held it up for Alister's inspection before he started rummaging in it. "Let's see, I know it's in here…ah! Here it is!" he said, holding something up for Alister's inspection. "Do you want some chocolate?"

Alister's stomach rumbled at the mention of food. He had been giving everything he had been finding to Miruko to eat first and taking only small bites of what was left over, in the event Miruko would need seconds. He was still wary, though—this was a soldier and he did not even know whose side he was on. For all he knew that chocolate was poisoned.

The man seemed to be thinking the same thing. He pulled away a corner of the confection's wrapper and then took a bite of it, chewing it and then swallowing the chocolate after making sure he was being watched. "It's not poisoned, I promise."

Alister wavered. Miruko could use the chocolate, after being sick and spending so much time on the run from soldiers and the chaos that came with it.

"I can see you also need a blanket too," the soldier continued, holding out a rolled blanket. "It doesn't have any holes in it and there's no mud or blood on it."

The red-haired child's eyes glanced to the shabby blanket Miruko was wrapped in. Now it was getting harder and harder to resist this man's offerings. Even so, Alister was not about to—

"Your brother's sick, isn't he?"

The concerned question caught Alister completely off guard and he shot the solder a startled glance.

"I can hear that boy's breathing from all the way over here. I have medicine you can use," he said, holding out what appeared to be a first aid kit. "Here."

Alister stared, completely at a loss as to what he should do. He desperately needed the medicine, as well as the blanket; the chocolate was an added bonus and something just as hard to find as medicine. But what if this was an enemy soldier? What if it was a trap?

"Poor lad, you don't even know what to do," said the man sadly, his eyes softening. "You don't trust anybody anymore, do you?"

He lifted the items into his arms and for one terrifying moment Alister thought he was leaving with the supplies, but then the man crossed the clearing to where a snow-covered log rested. He brushed the snow off of it before setting the bundle down.

"I'll take my leave, lad," he said, picking his helmet back up and setting it securely on his head. "Don't worry, I won't breathe a word about where you are. You've found yourself a nice spot away from all the chaos and I won't be so cruel as to chase you away from it."

He paused, and then added, "The artillery should be heading out by the end of the week, based on intelligence we've gathered. If you can hold out until then you should be fine, and then you can get that little one to the doctor without trouble."

He tipped his helmet to the child. "I hope that what I gave can help you kids," he said, and then, after retrieving his weapons (and causing Alister to stiffen once again) he started trudging up the hill.

Alister waited until he could not hear anything further before venturing out slowly. He made absolutely certain that there was no one else around before taking a few cautious steps toward the log; he stopped more than once to survey the area. When it became clear that he was perfectly alone Alister quickly moved to the log and scooped everything into his arms.

He hurried back to the hollow and, after unrolling the blanket, slipped back inside it. He'd made it big enough to house both himself and his brother, but there would not be enough room to unroll the blanket once inside

Alister gently shook his brother awake after setting his newly procured supplies down. "Miruko, come on," he said gently, helping the sleepy child sit up. "I've got something for you."

Miruko made a sound of protest when Alister took away the blanket that he had been wrapped in. "Alister, it's cold," he whined, shivering as the cold night air bit at him. "Why'd you take the blanket away?"

"Sorry, kiddo," he replied, wrapping the newer blanket around his younger brother. "This one's better, though."

Miruko instantly snuggled into the blanket, a contented smile starting to spread across his face. Alister felt a smile of his own coming onto his face as he started going through the first aid kit. The smile faded as he started digging through the kit. He at least needed aspirin for breaking Miruko's fever, as well as actual cold medicine; if those things weren't in there then he would have to go into town to look for some.

To his relief, however, he found two tablets of aspirin and several cough drops. He broke one of the aspirins in half before scooting back over to his brother. "Here, Miruko. Take this."

Miruko obediently swallowed the aspirin, making a face afterward. "It tasted nasty," he said, wrinkling his nose.

Alister shrugged. "If you want to get better you have to take medicine," he said with a grin, reaching for the chocolate next. "Besides, kid, I've got something for that too."

The smaller child's gray eyes rounded when he saw the chocolate. "Alister, is that…where did you get this?"

"I have my ways," Alister replied after a moment's pause. He would not tell Miruko just yet about the soldier—he'd promised the child that soldiers were not this far into the woods and did not feel like worrying Miruko over the encounter.

Miruko seemed to know that there was much more to the story than what his older brother was telling, but he did not say anything and instead chose to munch on the treat happily. When he saw Alister starting to put the candy away, however, the child's hand shot forward and caught his older brother's wrist. "You have some, Alister," he said firmly when Alister's surprised gaze moved to him. "You've been letting me have most of the food whenever you bring some back. Don't think I didn't notice—you have some chocolate too."

Alister tried to assure his younger brother that he was fine, but when it became apparent that Miruko was not going to rest until Alister also had some chocolate the older boy broke off a small corner of the chocolate (and after a pointed look from Miruko he snapped off a larger piece) and popped it into his mouth. It had been some time since he'd had any and the confection melted into his mouth.

"See, you feel better now, don't you?" asked Miruko when he caught sight of Alister's brightened face. "Chocolate makes everybody happier."

"It does," Alister agreed amicably after he'd swallowed. The chocolate had done something to ease the growling in his stomach and he already felt better; he was still hungry, but not as much as he had been before.

He reached for the blanket Miruko had been wrapped in earlier and scooted to the entryway of their hollow, stepping back outside into the cold night air to secure the blanket in front of the entrance; he made sure to weigh down the bottom of the blanket as well, to prevent it from flying away in the night. After he finished this small task Alister went back inside and then moved to the spot where he'd been sleeping.

There was a small movement and then Miruko scooted in closer to him. He tossed a portion of the new blanket over Alister and set his Dyna Dude action figure near the entrance; when Alister raised his eyebrows at it, Miruko said firmly, "It's to protect us from the bad guys!"

"Gotcha," said Alister, stifling a yawn of his own. "He'll definitely keep an eye on us."

Miruko beamed at him before snuggling against his brother's side. "Night, Alister," the child said sleepily, shutting his eyes. A few minutes later Miruko was sleeping once again, his breathing only slightly rasping—the aspirin was taking effect.

Alister took a moment to readjust the blanket over the both of them before shutting his eyes as well. "Good night, Miruko," he whispered softly.


	167. Caffeine Withdrawal

_My internet has been complete rubbish the past couple of days and I've not really been able to get on here. I can access it now, though, so here is an update._

_Set during DOOM and I hope you all like it! …by the way, am I the only one who thinks the updated review button's too obnoxious?_

**This is KoK's brother. My sister asked me to add this note on. She's had the flu since Wednesday and since she's been basically sleeping since she got sick she asked me to update for her. She says that replies, pm's, and beta edits will be delayed...whatever that means.**

* * *

"You know, having that much soda is going to backfire," said Raphael, frowning as Valon opened another can of soda he'd gotten from the fridge. "How many cans have you had today?"

The Australian eyed the soda can before taking a sip out of it. "This'll be the fifth," he announced.

Raphael's frown deepened. "Valon."

"Oh c'mon, chum, i's not like I'm gonna keel over dead or anythin'. I's only a couple sodas."

The three of them were at Paradius at the moment, filling out paperwork for Dartz's "business ventures"; actually, these were the missions that they went on to gather strong souls, but their master referred to these outings as such to decrease suspicion. Raphael's portion of the work was already finished, but he was helping Valon because the boy had trouble understanding what he was reading. He was almost finished now, as a matter of fact.

Alister's eyebrows rose and he turned in his seat; he had very little patience for the paperwork he had to do and hated doing it, but he was also nearly finished. "Says the idiot who's now gone through five twelve packs of soda within the space of a week," he remarked. "That's not even counting the countless other sodas you've been going through the past few months. You've had, what, twenty boxes of that soda now?"

"Well yeah! They taste good 'n' if they were bad 'r somethin' I'd think tha' I woulda found out by now," replied the Australian with a nonchalant shrug. "'n' b'sides, Raph drinks coffee every mornin' 'n' you don' get on his case f'r tha'."

"Raphael only has one cup of coffee."

Valon shrugged again.

"What are you going to do when you run out of soda? We're going back to the temple in a couple of hours and I know we don't have any there," said Raphael, setting down another finished paper. He was now down to one last stack of papers to go over and correct—Valon did not have perfect grammar.

"Naw, it'll be fine, chum. I c'n get some when we come back from the temple," replied the Australian brightly, coming back over to sit next to Raphael.

Alister's eyes rolled. "You do know that we won't be back here for a week, which is when we go on our next assignment. You're going to get caffeine withdrawal before then," he warned.

"Wha's tha'?"

"Haven't you ever heard of—no, don't answer that, I already know where this is going," Alister said impatiently, cutting over the beginning of the other biker's reply. "Let me guess: you've never heard of that before."

Valon glowered. "S'cuse me f'r growin' up on the streets. I's not like I could waltz t' the store 'n' buy a soda 'r anything," he retorted.

Mainly to diffuse yet another argument, Raphael cleared his throat. "When you have too much caffeinated soda and then abruptly stop drinking it you run the risk of getting caffeine withdrawal. You've been having so much soda lately that right now your body probably thinks it's necessary to function—when you stop drinking soda your body's going to want it, and if it doesn't get caffeine you'll have one massive migraine on your hands."

"And Raphael is in explanation mode," Alister said, throwing his hands in the air with mock celebration. "Now we all know what caffeine withdrawal is. Thank you, almighty educator," he continued, tipping his head toward him.

Raphael ignored the snide comment. The redhead hated filling out paperwork and his patience would wane the longer he'd been at it—they'd all fallen a month behind, so Alister was especially irritable.

The Australian cuffed Raphael's shoulder. "Now don' fret, Raph. It'll only be a couple days with a little 'eadache. I'll be fine, you'll see."

Both of the older bikers exchanged glances. They knew famous last words whenever they heard them.

* * *

The first day back on the island without any caffeinated sodas Valon showed mild irritation and annoyance, not to mention he complained of a headache that wouldn't go away. Taking Tylenol seemed to make the headache go away, though, so Valon dismissed any further symptoms and cheered up.

The second day back even Gurimo was offering Valon coffee, if only to diffuse the youngest biker's steadily rising temper. The headache had increased and this time the Tylenol only took the edge off of it. Even so, Valon felt perfectly fine and could still function.

The third morning without caffeine found Valon coming out of a sound sleep because he honestly believed his head had exploded.

He groaned and clutched at his head, curling into a tight ball under his blankets and trying to make the throbbing in his skull go away. He could not move, not even if someone set his room on fire; the slightest motion caused a spike of pain to travel through his head and even his heartbeat made his head throb. Out of desperation he tried pressing his head tightly against the headboard to get rid of the headache, but it only offered temporary relief.

This was why Raphael and Alister had warned him against drinking so much caffeine, he knew now. If this was what happened when he didn't have caffeine he would have never—OH OW OW OW OW MAKE IT STOP OW.

"I warned you that this would happen," came Alister's voice from somewhere above him, sounding oddly distant.

Valon managed to open one of his eyes and registered Alister's face swimming in and out of focus. "Go 'way," he mumbled, stifling a whimper as his own voice made his head hurt.

Alister paused. "Oh boy," he sighed, leaning backwards. "You never do anything halfway, do you?"

The Australian groaned as the sound of Alister's voice caused another spike of pain traveled through his skull. "Go gloat somewhere else 'n' let my 'ead implode in peace."

There was a long pause and Valon wondered if Alister had left—he had shut his eyes—and then, at last, a gruff voice asked, "Are you okay?"

Valon didn't open his eyes. "You blokes were righ', I was wrong. Don' rub it in, Raph," he half moaned, pressing on his head with both his hands.

"I won't," came the oddly amused reply. A cold and wet cloth was placed across his forehead and over his eyes. "I think you've already gotten the general message."

It was not until the middle of the afternoon when Valon's headache diminished enough for him to get out of bed, but until that point he could barely tolerate the cold cloth on his head and even taking Tylenol did little to help.

After that, Valon decided that drinking caffeinated soda in moderation was not such a bad thing after all.


	168. Nuisance

_Written for anonymous reviewer _momo_! She asked for this chapter and, after mulling over it for a couple weeks, my bunnies finally came up with her request. _

_Set post-canon and I hope you enjoy this, momo!_

**Another note from KoK's brother. This is a chapter I was supposed to have uploaded earlier, but I've been busy and didn't have time. Anyways, she asks that you look at her profile for an announcement from her—which I typed. So…technically, it's my announcement. **

* * *

"So you must be Ellie."

The young woman glanced away from her computer at the young man leaning casually against the side of her cubicle, his brown hair swept out of his eyes and a confident smile on his face. He was watching her with unabashed interest, but the look he was directing at her was one that made her distinctly uncomfortable and she shifted in her chair.

"You can call me Miss Monroe," she replied politely, returning her attention to her computer to print out the document she'd been working on.

"I just started working here a week ago. The name's Brad Richards," he announced, and she jumped when she realized he was suddenly looming over her shoulder and his face was entirely too close to hers for comfort. "And c'mon, I've talked to people and they say you prefer being called Ellie."

She scooted her chair backwards to get out of his way and rose to her feet. "That's what my friends call me, yes," she replied, moving past him to head for the copy room.

Much to her displeasure, Brad followed after her. "But we're friends since I introduced myself," he pointed out.

"You can call me Danielle then, if you wish," she said stiffly. "It was nice meeting you, but I have work to do that must get done. I have errands I need to run later today."

"That reminds me, I had something I wanted to ask you," he said as they entered the copying room, leaning against the wall and watching her every movement (much to her discomfort). "See, I was wondering if you were doing anything this weekend."

"Why do you ask?" she asked idly, stacking the papers neatly and stapling them.

"Well, I was hoping to take you out on the town this Friday," he offered persuasively. "You aren't doing anything that night, are you?"

"I already have plans that night with Raphael. If you've been talking to people, you'd know that I'm dating him," she replied dismissively, turning to face him.

"Well I know that, but you could, oh I dunno, _ditch_ the guy and go with me. I mean, come on, all's fair in love and war, right? It's not like you _have_ to stay with one guy."

Ellie's eyes narrowed. "I don't hold the same view," she said coolly, moving past him. "Good day, Mr. Richards."

When Brad still followed after her with a determined expression on his face and showed no signs of leaving her alone she inwardly groaned. Couldn't he take a hint? She'd said no! What would it take for him to leave her alone?

She was so focused on trying to avoid Brad's gaze that she was not entirely paying attention to where she was going and she ended up bumping into someone from behind, scattering the papers in her hands. "Oh no, I'm sorry. Are you okay?" she said with some embarrassment, bending down to start picking up the papers she had dropped and well aware of Brad's watching eyes.

A larger pair of hands helped her gather the paper. "You seem to have a habit of accidentally running into me," said Raphael with some amusement, handing her the stack of paper back as he rose to his feet.

She got back to her feet and accepted the proffered pile gratefully. "Sorry, Raphael," she began, but then she noticed the way Raphael's eyes had traveled from her to Brad (and the resulting comprehending look that entered his eyes) and she suppressed the urge to smile. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

The brown haired man was staring at Raphael with dawning comprehension and suddenly looked much more nervous—he probably hadn't known what Raphael had looked liked and he only came up to the blond's shoulder.

Raphael raised an eyebrow at the newcomer. "Is there something wrong, Mr. Richards?" he asked calmly, his voice holding a polite but noticeable edge to it.

Ellie was having difficulty keeping her face straight. She knew what that tone of voice meant—Alister had told her once about the circumstances under which that tone of voice was used. "You've met already?"

"Oh yes," replied the blond easily, though his eyes were still on Brad. "He was just asking about you, you know."

"Was he?" she replied, feigning a confused expression. "I wondered if it was because he wanted to ask you something. In fact, I think Mr. Richards might better remember what it is he wanted to ask."

Brad started. "Ask what now?" he asked, looking just as uncomfortable as Ellie had minutes ago.

"You know, something about this weekend?" she prompted, fighting the urge to laugh. "You were just telling me about plans you had this Friday…do you want to tell Raphael? He's very accommodating, you know. I'm sure if you told him what you were up to this Friday he'd be willing to help."

"Oh, that! Um, you know, I honestly forgot what it was I was going to ask and my friends will be looking for me upstairs, so, uh, I'll see you later," he replied hastily, beating a retreat back to the elevators.

Raphael watched the other man go and then shrugged. "Looks like he's somewhat afraid of me," he commented wryly, looking perfectly unapologetic. "Gee, what a shame."

Ellie could not hold in her laughter when she heard the sarcastic edge in his voice. "You knew he was flirting with me, didn't you?" she asked, struggling to reign in her laughter. "That's why you came over."

Raphael looked back at her with feigned innocence. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he said serenely, though the look in his eyes told her the exact opposite. "I only noticed that he was bothering you and being a nuisance, so I decided it would be best for him to go."

He paused when Ellie pointedly looked at him, beginning to grin. "Given your question, though, that may have been a part of it."


	169. Is It Safe To Look?

_Bwah what on earth…okay, don't get me wrong, I like the book cover feature, but…er…does that bar REALLY have to be RIGHT THERE?_

_Anyways, to thank my younger brother for his services and for updating "Come Together" while I was sick I decided to let him have a request…and of course he chose this. He figured that there has to be a first time for everything and he wanted to see what happened if they watched a horror movie, so…_

_By the way, Trix, your request is up next when this story gets updated :D_

_Set during DOOM (with Valon being fourteen, by the way) and I hope you all like it!...on a note, the cover for this story is prone to change, but I rather like it for now._

* * *

"You want to watch _what?_"

Valon grinned up at his older friends and held out the movie for his friend's inspection. "C'mon, fellas, why not? It can' be tha' scary," he said, flipping the case over to show the images on the back. "I mean, wha's so scary 'bout this mutant lobster? The effects look pretty corny."

Raphael frowned and took the video from Valon, examining it for a few moments before sighing. "Valon, this is rated R."

Valon promptly scowled and opened his mouth to protest, but Raphael cut over the top of him with a resigned, "I'm not saying you can't watch it. I'm just warning you that it's rated R for a reason."

The Australian instantly brightened and cuffed the blond's shoulder. "Aw Raph, you worry too much."

Alister raised an eyebrow and looked over the top of the magazine he'd been perusing. "And most of the time he has legitimate reason. We really ought to just unleash you on the world instead of taking everyone's souls—Master Dartz would have the world conquered in no time flat."

"Laugh it up, chum," retorted Valon, returning his attention to the movie. "So, 'ow 'bout it, fellas? Wanna watch _Alien_ with me?"

Raphael grimaced. "I don't like sci-fi movies," he began slowly. "And I also don't like horror movies. I don't think I want to watch it with you."

Valon let out an impatient noise. "Aw, c'mon chum! Live a little!" he said, grabbing onto Raphael's arm and tugging on it enthusiastically. "You've gotta broaden your 'orizons, or else you'll end up like ol' Kuriboh."

Raphael's eyebrows arched. "Heaven forbid that should happen," he remarked sardonically, a wry grin making its way onto his features. "All right, fine. I'll watch it with you. Alister, are you going to join us?"

Alister seemed to think this over. "Why not?" he said at last, setting the magazine down on the coffee table. "If nothing else I get to watch Valon scream like a girl."

Valon glared at him. "Shouldn' you be sayin' tha' 'bout yourself? You're the one tha' looks like a—"

"Finish that sentence," Alister said, his gray eyes flashing. "Finish it, I dare you."

Raphael sighed and clapped a hand over Valon's mouth to stop him from talking. "Come on, you two. Can't you get along for one night?" he asked, releasing Valon once he was certain that the Australian would not goad Alister.

"Ah, but that would be too easy, Raphael," said Alister, a barely noticeable smirk coming onto his features. "Besides, Valon's the one who starts most of these arguments."

"It doesn't matter who starts them. I usually end them," Raphael grumbled, following after Valon (who was putting the movie into the player and waiting impatiently for his companions to sit down). He settled onto the sofa as Valon turned off the lights. He could not help but feel that this was a mistake and that they would end up regretting watching it.

* * *

"…Raph?"

"Huh."

"I-Is it safe t' look now?"

"Huh." At the moment Raphael was incapable of saying anything beyond an unintelligible grunt.

Not one of the three Swordsmen had ever seen _Alien _before and at first had thought nothing of it; it had started slow and in fact they had nearly turned it off before the plot started to pick up. But as the movie had progressed…well. They would have simply turned it off, but they had their pride to consider; not one of them wanted to admit that they were actually afraid and wanted nothing better than to stop watching. But now the atmosphere in the room had shifted.

Valon had drawn his legs to his chest and was curled into a small ball against Raphael's side, every now and then resorting to burying his head into the space between the couch and Raphael's shoulder whenever the suspense became too great. When Raphael had finally put an end to that, though, he then started burying his head in his knees.

Raphael himself was sitting bolt upright and was so tense that even the slightest movement would cause him to jump violently; this was why he'd had to tell Valon to stop hiding behind him, as he was half afraid of punching him should he get startled. His hands kept clenching and unclenching so hard that the muscles in his arms and hands stood out; it hurt to do this, and yet at this moment it did not seem to entirely affect him.

Even the normally stoic Alister was affected. He had originally taken up a fluffy pillow to rest his chin on as he watched the movie, but now his grip on it was so tight that—had it a voice—the pillow might have been screaming in agony. Alister's head had also sunk down into the pillow, so that only his gray eyes were visible beneath his bangs.

The redhead cautiously lifted his head. "This part is, at least," he said, and Valon slowly uncurled. The tension in Raphael's shoulders noticeably lessened.

Valon swallowed nervously and looked around with a faint grin at his older friends. "W-Well this isn' so scary after all, right? See, 'm not even a bit scared. 'n' you were worried, Raph."

The twin looks of _Valon-you-aren't-seriously-trying-to-fool-us-into-believing-you're-not-scared-are-you_ was reply enough.

"I told you that I didn't like these kind of movies," Raphael said sourly, slightly relaxing. He tensed again, however, as one man started crawling through the ventilation shaft. _Bad move,_ he inwardly remarked, and he braced himself for the inevitable scare.

"Every part of my rational mind is saying that this isn't real, but the irrational part of my mind doesn't want to agree," Alister said, also tensing and his head lowering again.

Valon had some sort of input to add as well, but he froze when one woman in the movie began yelling with a panicked voice. Seconds later the monster suddenly leapt into view and all three bikers actually let out startled yells; Valon practically dove into Raphael, knocking the older man onto his side on the sofa, and Alister jumped so violently that he fell out of the chair.

The worst part about this whole thing, Raphael realized after glancing at the movie player, was that this was only halfway over.

* * *

Dartz had not been able to sleep and had taken to pacing the halls to calm his mind and to lull himself back to sleep, but as he passed the resident's hall he paused, then doubled back. He could have sworn that he'd been seeing things, but…no, he hadn't. All three of the lights in his Swordsmen's rooms were on.

He frowned before advancing to the nearest room (which, if memory served him correctly, was Raphael's). Normally all three of them would be asleep at this hour—what were they doing awake?

He opened the door and nearly began speaking before he took note of Raphael and paused, his frown turning into a baffled expression.

The blond man was comfortably asleep and had not even stirred when Dartz had opened the door. Yet the light was on…Raphael must have fallen asleep before being able to turn off the light.

He rolled his eyes and then turned the light off, closing the door behind him. He repeated the process for both Alister's and Valon's rooms before returning to the entrance to the hallway. "I'll need to have a talk with them about curfew," he muttered. Electricity on the island was expensive and they didn't need to waste energy like that—

Alister's bedroom light immediately switched on, the light coming from around the door itself. Seconds later, Valon's bedroom light and Raphael's light simultaneously began filtering underneath their doors.

…Had they just…they had. All three of them—even Alister—had woken up to turn their lights back on. What on earth was going on with his Swordsmen? This was something new, as he'd been here before and never seen something like this until now.

He debated on questioning them, then decided that whatever it was that was prompting this reaction could wait until morning. Chances were it was something ridiculous, he thought to himself as he turned to head back to his room.

* * *

_Coincidentally enough, my brother made me sit down with him and watch _Alien_ right before he asked for this shot—I set myself up for this one *sighs*_

_That movie is surprisingly scary, because even though you know what it looks like because of the cover…word of advice, DON'T WATCH THIS MOVIE AT NIGHT AND IN THE DARK._


	170. Serpent on the Edge

_Okay, so this isn't Imaginatrix's request. I tried working on it (as well as a couple other updates), but then my bunnies went "NO U WRITE DIS" and I've long since learned not to ignore them, so…thank you for your patience, Trix, I SWEAR the next chapter will involve your request in some fashion._

_This one is set post-series and references "Sick of Snakes" and "Spiders and Bedrooms". Hope you enjoy!_

* * *

Marik's voice was low and tense. "Valon, whatever you do…_don't move_."

Valon had completely frozen, eyes never moving from what was directly in front of him. "Oh b'lieve me, mate, 'm not movin'," he said in a voice barely above a whisper.

Bastet was in Marik's arms, watching the snake with a combination of tension and avid curiosity. The cat struggled briefly to get loose but the Egyptian refused to let go of her and she settled in his arms. Marik eyes were trained on the snake on his living room floor, where it was coiled inches away from his bare foot; Valon was also barefoot and was sitting directly in front of the reptile, so that put him more at risk.

They were currently at Marik's home, as the air conditioner had broken down once again at Valon's home and the Australian was seeking some relief from the heat (although the Ishtars were not necessarily bothered by the heat they had actually turned on the air conditioner to accommodate their guest). They had been on the floor watching a movie that had come on the television when Bastet, who had been initially curled up on the sofa, perked up and growled. That had been when they had seen the black snake slither out from underneath Marik's sofa and stop inches away from both of them.

Now granted, one would think that they would move from their current positions to avoid conflict with this snake—except this particular one was not a reptile either of them wanted to mess with.

Marik glanced at Valon very briefly before returning his attention to the snake on the floor. "I wasn't aware that cobras were native to Domino," he said quietly.

Valon did not look at him. "I don' reckon they are. It might belong t' some loony professor bloke down the street from us," he replied tersely. "'e keeps 'avin' problems with keepin' 'is pets in their cages. We 'ad a python 'n' a tarantula sneak into our 'ouse a while ago."

Marik scowled. "Fantastic," he growled softly.

"I don' suppose your brother's around?" Valon asked, stiffening when the snake hissed (he'd spoken too loudly).

Marik waited until the reptile had calmed again before replying. "He is. I don't know where, though. For all I know he's upstairs."

The cobra drew itself up, its hood flaring out as it glared coldly at the two of them, and they waited tensely for a few minutes to see what would happen next; the only thing that broke the silence was the movie on the television. At length the snake settled once more, but its cold eyes were still on them.

Valon barely opened his mouth to speak this time, still fearful of provoking their uninvited guest. "Marik, you ever get bit by one of these things?"

"I have," responded Marik softly. "You won't like what happens, trust me."

"Wish Raph was 'ere," muttered Valon under his breath. "'e kills these things like it was nothin'."

The cobra reared up once again to face Marik this time and instinctively the Egyptian flinched, maintaining his grip on Bastet. Seconds later he berated himself inwardly as the snake reared higher, baring its fangs. He'd moved too fast and it would only provoke the snake further—

The air whistled from somewhere to his right and then a rather large kitchen knife pinned the cobra's head to the floor with a loud _thunk_. Instantly the cobra's body started twisting and spinning madly where it was pinned in place. Valon let out a startled curse and took the chance to scramble backwards, and Marik leapt over the back of the sofa with Bastet in tow.

Both of the younger men recovered once out of range of the snake and then looked in the direction where the knife had come from; their eyes found Rishid standing in the doorway to the kitchen, his hand still outstretched from throwing the knife. His eyes were narrowed and he was watching the cobra's movements attentively.

Once he was satisfied that the cobra could do no further harm to anyone he turned his attention to them. "Are you two all right?" he asked, visibly concerned.

Valon offered a shaky grin. "Jus' peachy," he said, offering the older man a thumbs up. "It didn' bite anyone, if tha's what you're wonderin'."

Rishid's gaze lingered on Marik for several moments before fully relaxing. "I am glad for that."

Marik kept a hold of the cat that was still squirming in his arms. No need to let Bastet endanger herself—the snake might be dead, but its nerves did not register that fact until several hours had passed and it was still quite capable of biting. "How did you know we were in trouble?" he asked.

"I was in the kitchen when it occurred to me that you both had gotten far too quiet," he explained. "Valon especially is not nearly so silent, and it bothered me, so I decided to see why. When I came to see what had happened I saw the snake," he finished, his expression darkening.

Valon padded a little closer to where the cobra's body was still twitching spasmodically, but he still maintained his distance. "Blimey, Rishid, you skewered tha' thing from all the way over there," he said with visible admiration, gawking at the knife. It had perfectly caught the head of the snake and had pinned it to the floor.

Rishid gave a rueful smile. "I've had practice," he said, glancing at Marik.

* * *

Raphael actually stopped putting away the groceries and stared in complete disbelief. "A _what?_"

"You 'eard righ', chum. Bloody king cobra, righ' in Marik's livin' room," said Valon conversationally, idly scratching Misa behind her ears. He had come back home once the air conditioner had been fixed and was now telling the both of his friends about what had happened."It came outta nowhere. One minute we're watchin' a movie, next we're pretendin' t' be statues."

Alister scowled. "It certainly didn't come from nowhere," he said darkly. "Let me guess: this serpent was yet another one of our favorite professor's precious babies."

Valon looked surprised. "'ow'd you know?"

"He's the only one in this neighborhood who would own something like that. Same way he owned a tarantula and a python, both of which are clearly not native to Domino," retorted the other man. "I'm even willing to bet that he showed up at the doorstep looking for it."

"Oh 'e did. Rishid wasn' too 'appy 'bout the snake showin' up—Marik got bit once when 'e was a kid or somethin'— 'n' that professor bloke got an earful when 'e showed up. I reckon 'e'll be payin' extra special attention t' 'is pets from now on."

"I'm wondering how it escaped the professor's notice that a cobra had gotten loose," said Raphael grimly. "Once is an accident, twice is carelessness, but three times?"

"See, it wasn' the prof's fault this time," Valon explained. "Accordin' t' 'im a friend o' 'is was thinkin' 'bout buyin' the cobra 'n' took it outside. Then 'e accidentally dropped it when it 'issed at 'im or somethin' 'n'—Alister, you don' look even remotely convinced."

"I'm not," the redhead said curtly. "Why would you even think about taking a cobra _outside_ _the house_ to begin with, let alone taking it out of its cage? And then it somehow ends up in the Ishtar's house? Does this man even have a license to own exotic pets? If he does, I'd pay money to know how he procured it given how careless he is."

Valon shrugged dismissively, then grinned at Raph. "'ey mate, if you ever get bored o' tha' insurance company you 'n' Rishid oughta open up a snake killin' business—between the two o' you blokes you'd probably wipe out every snake in the country."

"Hark, foul serpent. The Snake Apocalypse is about to descend upon thee and thy kin and soon the land shall be cleansed of thy taint," Raphael deadpanned. "I don't like killing things, Valon."

Alister raised an eyebrow. "I believe Sophie the python begs to differ."


	171. Anzac Day

_This is a requested shot for _The Imaginatrix_—at last, ahaha. Thanks for your patience, Trix!_

_She asked for this one way back in April, but at the time I was taking my finals and did not have time to write it out. Then of course I had to give my plot bunnies time to think of something to write for her, but at last I have it!_

_Set during DOOM and here's a brief note: the holiday Valon will be talking about happens on April 25. This will make sense in a bit :D_

* * *

"OUCH!"

Alister rolled his eyes. "Valon, I haven't even touched you yet," he said flatly, eyeing the gash in Valon's side with a distasteful expression. "I'd prefer it if you sat still."

Valon, who was perched on the edge of the seat, leaned away from the redhead. "You don' 'ave t' touch me. I c'n already tell this is gonna hurt," he growled.

"Well then this should teach you a valuable lesson about taking on guys with guns," retorted Alister irritably.

"I 'ad to, though! Tha' man was gonna 'urt Mai!"

Raphael rolled his eyes but did not comment, instead handing Alister a roll of gauze and a first aid kit. He had not said anything yet, but judging by the way his features would alternate displaying concern or showing annoyance it was quite evident of what Raphael thought about this latest turn of events.

Valon and Mai's motorcycles had needed gas and so the two of them had gone out to re-fuel their vehicles, while Raphael and Alister caught up on paperwork at Paradius. While they had been at the nearby station a man armed with a gun had tried to rob Mai; when she had refused to yield and in fact had mouthed off the man had pulled the trigger. Valon, however, had put himself between them and ended up taking the bullet for her. The man had run off shortly afterward, Valon had reported with a scowl, and rather than deal with the crowd or the police they'd returned to Paradius.

Mai had _still_ not thanked Valon for saving her life yet—which was what had made Raphael angry.

The bullet had not lodged itself in Valon, thankfully, but it had taken a decent sized chunk of flesh out of his side and was bleeding rather profusely. It had fallen to Alister to patch the Australian up; they would have taken Valon to a doctor to tend to his wound, but the one Dartz kept on hand at Paradius had stepped out for the day and Gurimo would not hear of allowing Valon to go to the hospital. That was why it had fallen to Alister to treat the injury.

"It bloody figures," Valon grumped, wincing as Alister began tending to the wound. "O' course I'd get shot on Anzac Day. Tha's wha' you blokes call ironic."

Alister paused. "…Gesundheit," he said at last.

"Wha'?" Valon looked momentarily perplexed.

"I think he's referring to…you called it Anzac day?" Raphael offered, finally getting involved in the conversation. He had refrained from speaking primarily because he was still angry at Mai and knew that anything he said at the moment would only rile Valon up, but the change in subject was a welcome one. "What is that?"

Valon tilted his head with a deepening frown before his expression cleared and a grin began creeping along his features. "Wait a moment, fellas. You mean t' tell me tha' you don' _know_?" he asked, looking pleased. "I actually know somethin' you fellas don' f'r a change?"

Alister grunted noncommittally as he continued dabbing at the wound. "Well of course you'd know about a day you made up," he replied flatly, frowning in concentration.

"I did not make it up!" retorted Valon with an affronted growl, turning to face him. He yelped in pain as Alister's hand inadvertently pressed down too hard on his injury as a result of the movement and sat back, but the indignant glare did not subside. "I'm serious! Anzac Day is an actual 'oliday!"

"So what is Anzac Day?" asked Raphael with genuine curiosity. "I've never heard of that holiday at all."

Valon puffed himself up proudly in spite of the injury on his side. "Well, fellas, i's something tha's celebrated in Australia 'n' New Zealand," he began. Much to the amusement of his older companions, his voice had taken on an educational tone—one usually belonging to either Alister or Raphael. "It's meant t' honor the blokes in the military service who died in battle. The veterans 'ave some sorta special breakfast first 'n' then they march through the capitals b'fore they gather at some place. Mother Mary told me 'bout it once, when I saw them marchin' near the church. I's serious business, it is."

Alister nodded slowly. "I see…it's the Australian equivalent to Memorial Day," he said idly as he began bandaging the gash with gauze and medical tape.

"How did this holiday come about?" asked Raphael. "Was there any particular battle that this holiday was founded on?"

Valon suddenly shifted uncomfortably. "I dunno about tha' bit," he replied, looking slightly sheepish. "I mean, yeah, Mother Mary mighta mentioned something about a battle tha' Anzac Day was meant t' honor t' beginwith, but…well, le's just say I wasn' entirely payin' attention."

Alister snorted. "That sounds about right. You never pay attention to anything."

The Australian glowered, but Alister kept talking. "You do know more about this holiday than either Raphael and I do, though, so I guess that makes up for it. You're done here, Valon. It may need stitches, but that's something for the Paradius doctor to take care of."

The teenager pouted as he looked down at his side, which was still slowly bleeding through the bandages. "'n' you're sure there's no bullet lodged in there?"

"Believe me, Valon, if there was you'd be in the emergency room instead of dealing with me."

"Aww. I was kinda 'opin' there was a bullet—then I could give it t' Mai."

Alister rolled his eyes. "In that case I'm especially glad I didn't have to dig one out of you. Besides, she didn't even thank you for saving her sorry butt. I doubt that she'd be impressed by some blood-covered bullet."

"She would so!" retorted Valon angrily. "You fellas don't know 'er any!"

Raphael snorted. "That woman wouldn't be impressed by anything less than Jounouchi's head on a platter."

Valon's expression darkened and an expression of annoyance flickered across his face. He looked as if he wanted to defend Mai and argue with them some more, but his expression abruptly cleared and he grinned at them both. "I won' 'old wha' you jus' said against you any."

"Oh?" Raphael looked amused. "And why's that?"

"You blokes'll change your tones once you find lady friends o' your own someday."

Alister and Raphael gave him twin skeptical looks.

"'m serious!" Valon insisted. "You laugh now, but one day at least one o' you fellas is gonna 'ave a lady friend, 'n' then you won't think wha' I'm doin' is so silly!"

"If she's anything like Mai I'll pass," said Alister flatly.

* * *

_So, more on Anzac Day. It was originally founded after World War I to honor those of the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps (ANZAC) who were felled while trying to take the Gallipolli Peninsula in the Ottoman Empire. However, it eventually became a holiday to honor all those who died in military combat defending Australia and New Zealand. _

_Fun facts :D_


	172. Quiet Friends

_Bahahahaha thunderstorms seem to have muses hidden in them, as I had a couple of them roll through recently._

_I should go ahead and warn y'all. Updates for this fic will be slow, partially because I'm working on "The Princess and the Dragon" (which is AU and consuming my life), partially because I need to pick and choose which one of my bunnies makes it in from here on out, and partially because the final story arc is indeed coming and I need to make sure everything in it is ready come ch. 190. _

_This one is set during DOOM, right about in the first week or so since "First Meeting" (ch. 36, and kudos if anyone remembers that far back), and I hope y'all like this._

* * *

_He was tumbling over and over in the waves, unable to tell up from down and barely able to see. All around him was a smothering cocoon of water and immense pressure. It was as if he was paralyzed, because he could no longer move even as his lungs filled with water. One of his hands reached out feebly but desperately for the surface that was just beyond his reach—_

Raphael jolted awake with a gasp and sat bolt upright, dislodging the blankets he'd been under. His breathing was harsh and ragged and a few seconds later he realized that a still trembling hand was outstretched toward the opposite wall.

He brought his hand back down to his side slowly, his eyes moving around his room in the darkness. It had been a week since his arrival at the temple and he was still getting accustomed to his new quarters, so he focused on identifying the different shapes in the room and not on the terrifying after-images of the nightmare that were still lurking in the forefront of his mind.

From outside his window came a flash of light, and Raphael's head turned to it just as a distinct rumble of thunder came through the darkness. He growled and lay back slowly, lying prone on the mattress and closing his eyes; he was not afraid of thunderstorms, per say, but the storm was riling up the ocean and he could hear the waves battering against the island.

When about ten minutes had passed and Raphael found he could not focus on anything but less-than-welcome memories he growled again and angrily shoved the blankets off of him, getting to his feet and leaving the room. It seemed he would not be getting any sleep for a while yet; the best chance he had for getting any sleep was waiting until the storm abated, so for now he'd find a book to read and stay in the common room.

He made his way down the hall slowly as he navigated through the dark, then paused and doubled back down the corridor to a door on the far right side of the hall; he reached the door and slowly opened it, his eyes adjusting to the dimly lit room before they swiveled toward to the bed. He could hear gentle snores from the pile of blankets and relaxed—it seemed Valon had no troubles sleeping, despite the fact that this was his first night in the temple and that there was a storm outside.

Satisfied that the youngest and newest addition to the temple was sound asleep, Raphael then made his way back down the hallway and into the common room. He paused in the doorway when his eyes landed on Alister sitting in the armchair, a surprised expression on the redhead's face. He may have only known Alister for a week, but he knew the other young man stayed awake long after everyone else had gone to bed; it was all too likely that Alister was surprised to see someone else up at this hour for a change.

"Sorry if I'm disturbing you," he said brusquely, remembering that Alister valued solitude. He went to the bookshelf and picked up the nearest novel he could find. "I just came to get a book."

He had almost been out of the room when Alister's voice broke the silence. "You don't like thunderstorms much, do you?" he asked bluntly.

The older man blinked, turning around once more. "What makes you think that?"

Alister raised an eyebrow. "You're pale and you're not in your room. When you go to bed, you stay there. This is also the first time a thunderstorm has hit the island with you on it. I'm pretty sure that has a great deal to do with why you're out and about."

At the surprised expression given him Alister shrugged. "I notice things."

Raphael paused. "I can't sleep," he admitted after a split-second hesitation. He saw no reason to lie. "The storm's riling up the ocean outside and..."

He trailed off awkwardly, glancing down at the book. He figured Alister at least partially understood what he was talking about; the aloof young man had implied that he knew Raphael's past (which wasn't that hard to believe—years might have passed since he'd returned from the island, but even now there were still people who recognized him). It was hard to tell if he did know, however—Alister wasn't talking and the emotionless expression on his face that revealed nothing of his thoughts.

"…If it helps you any, I don't care for thunderstorms either."

Raphael looked back up with some surprise. Alister's gaze had shifted pointedly away from him, staring at a point over the blond's shoulder. He looked slightly uncomfortable. "I don't like going to sleep until the storm is gone," he continued flatly.

Raphael nodded slowly. He was certain that there was much more to it, but that was Alister's business and it was not his place to pry. "Me neither."

Alister continued to look at him, though something close to surprise flitted across his features. "You're not going to ask why?" he asked with an arched eyebrow.

Raphael got the sudden feeling that he was being tested somehow, but he dismissed it and then carelessly shrugged. "It's your business, not mine."

Alister seemed to mull over this answer for a moment before sighing and gesturing to a chair across from him. "You don't have to leave on my account, you know. It's called a common room for a reason."

He went back to reading his book, saying nothing further, and Raphael crossed the room after a brief pause. After he got himself situated comfortably in the chair, he opened the novel he'd picked out.

He had not been reading for long before Alister cleared his throat. "I grew up in a warzone. The thunder and lightning reminds me too much of artillery fire. That's why I don't like storms," he said once Raphael looked up at him.

The older man stared back in surprise. "You didn't have to tell me, you know," he said, wondering if he'd inadvertently pressured Alister into talking.

It was the redhead's turn to shrug. "I know more about your past than you about mine. For the moment, that makes us about even," he replied.

With that comment Alister went back to reading and Raphael, sensing that was the end of the conversation, looked back down to the novel he had.

By the time the storm abated Raphael's eyelids were heavy and he was having trouble focusing on the words. He stifled a yawn after glancing out the window and rose to his feet, closing the book and setting it on the table. He paused when he saw Alister still reading (and who had not reacted to Raphael moving at all). After standing awkwardly for a few moments and realizing Alister was not likely going to say anything, Raphael turned to leave the room.

"If there's ever another thunderstorm you're welcome to come back here," said Alister without looking up from the book.

Raphael was startled by the abrupt comment and took a moment to reply. "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks," he said at last, leaving the room.

Alister watched him go before returning to his book; he'd be awake for a long while yet, as he rarely went to bed at a normal hour. Raphael had seemed to be a lot different than Alister had initially thought…perhaps it would not be a bad idea to be at least marginally friendlier around the older man, he decided.


	173. Terror in the Night

_Gahhhh, it's been how long? I'm so sorry, guys._

_I've been fairly busy on my end and my attention has been divided between my AU fic "The Princess and the Dragon" and things going on outside of FanFiction (college graduation plus helping plan a best friend's wedding equals one busy Kohaku). Hard to believe I last updated this story in September…again, I'm so sorry!_

_This one takes place post-series and…well…okay, it WAS supposed to be the Thanksgiving special and then it turned into this._

* * *

It was the sound of Sadie's low and terrible snarls that roused Ellie out of a sound sleep and she sat up blearily, rubbing her eyes and glancing at the clock. "Sadie, what's wrong?" she asked groggily, squinting in the darkness at her clock. The time read just after midnight and she groaned. "Sadieeeee."

Because Sadie was still a puppy prone to chewing things she was not supposed to, Ellie kept the dog in her room at night with the door closed in order to prevent Sadie from getting into trouble. Currently the dog was standing at her closed bedroom door, her hackles rising and her teeth bared as she snarled.

Ellie frowned and rose to her feet, her socked feet padding silently across the carpet; the heater in her apartment had been acting up, so she'd had to wear a hooded sweatshirt, sweatpants, and socks to bed in order to stay warm. The heater had only acted up this evening, however, and in the morning a repairman was supposed to come and fix it. "Sadie?" she asked again, frowning.

The German Shepherd continued to growl, never leaving her post in front of the door. Ellie fumbled a bit in the darkness for Sadie's collar and tried tugging on it to lead the dog away, but Sadie would not move. "Sweetie, what's wrong?" she asked gently, petting the dog to try and soothe her.

That was when the doorknob to her door turned and the door slowly began opening. The outline of a man cautiously began creeping around the corner of the doorframe.

Sadie lunged out of Ellie's grip and leapt into the air, snarling viciously as her teeth sank into the man's arm. An unfamiliar voice broke the silence of the apartment as he violently swore and folded under the dog's weight, hitting the floor with a muffled _thump_ as he fought to get the furious dog off of him.

It was this motion that snapped Ellie out of the fear-induced paralysis she'd fallen into and she scrambled to her feet, stumbling to her nightstand and grabbing the dim outline of a tall, thin can—pepper spray, she hoped. She turned back to where the intruder was still grappling with her dog and in a sharp voice she called, "Sadie, come!"

Sadie immediately responded and came to her side, and as the man rose Ellie pointed the can at him and pushed down on the nozzle. She frowned when she didn't catch the tell-tale scent of the spray and when her own nose and eyes didn't start burning, but the man howled nonetheless and collapsed again, holding his face.

Ellie's grip on the can tightened and, steeling herself, ran past the flailing man on the floor to where her door was still open, Sadie on her heels. As she passed, however, his hand caught her ankle and Ellie squealed in fear, tripping and hitting the floor. A blaze of pain shot up her ankle. "Let go of me!"

The intruder was having nothing of it. Even blinded he was intent on one thing and he began dragging her backwards. "I think not, woman. I need you for my plans and it won't do if you get away!" he snarled

Out of desperation Ellie redirected the can she was holding and sprayed it again, but the man turned his head to avoid it.

Abruptly Sadie descended on the man with a furious bark, her teeth sinking into the man's wrist. He roared in pain, but his grip on her ankle loosened enough for Ellie to pull herself free and she rose to her feet, hobbling for the front door. As she reached the front door and pulled it open she heard Sadie yelp in surprised pain and she turned, suddenly afraid for her dog. "Sadie!"

Once more the dog bounded to her side and Ellie immediately slammed the door shut, hobbling for the nearest apartment door and beginning to pound on it. "Please! Please help me, there's a strange man in my apartment!" she cried, terrified that at any moment the intruder would stumble out the door.

A thin stream of light came from under the door and it opened, revealing a concerned-looking older gentleman. She recognized him as one of her neighbors. "Get inside," he ordered, and Ellie immediately hobbled into the apartment with Sadie behind her. "I heard the racket and I've already called the police—they'll be here soon enough."

Ellie collapsed against the nearest wall and slid against it until she was on the floor, and something at her side let out a metallic _clink_ as it touched the hardwood floor—she'd held onto whatever it was she'd sprayed at the intruder.

The next twenty minutes blurred. Policemen arrived soon enough and their kind but firm voices asked her countless questions, Ellie answering them all calmly but mechanically. Someone moved her to the nearby sofa and, after draping a blanket over her shoulders, bandaged her throbbing ankle; she heard a mention of a twisted ankle being the cause of the pain. She also heard one of the policemen murmur something about the culprit managing to escape despite being half blinded and for the briefest of seconds fear spiked through her thoughts.

She processed all of this dimly and whenever she wasn't answering questions she was still staring at the bright yellow can in her hands to try and figure out what it was; she had not managed to understand what she was holding, but at this point this mundane task was the only thing that was stopping her from bursting into tears.

Ellie was turning the can over and over absently when a larger hand gently folded over the tops of her hands and a welcoming, familiar voice broke through the dazed state of her mind. "Ellie?"

She jumped violently and her eyes landed on a welcome face. "Hi, Raphael," she said, offering him a watery smile. She had meant for her voice to be cheerful as it always had been around him, but instead her voice held the barest of sobs to it. "I'm sorry, I must have told the police to call you. It's far too late for you to be awake and I didn't mean to disturb you—"

"Don't apologize. I came as soon as I heard," he said firmly. He did not seem to bother with hiding his concern. "Are you all right?"

"Oh yes, yes, I'm fine," she answered, her voice slightly rising. She held up the can she had been inspecting for so long for Raphael to see and let out a shaky laugh. "I finally figured out what this is—it's wasp spray. There was a huge nest outside my window and this afternoon I used it to destroy the nest. I must have forgotten to put it away. Lucky me, because if I hadn't that man might have…I…"

The can fell from her slackened grip and hit the floor, and that was when Ellie finally burst into tears. A pair of arms instantly wrapped themselves around her and Ellie turned, sobbing into Raphael's shirt and not caring in the slightest if anyone was watching.

It was the first time since the intruder had broken into her apartment that Ellie felt truly safe.

* * *

"Her ankle will be fine in a couple of days," Raphael said quietly, keeping his voice down to accommodate the sleeping woman at his side. He carefully draped a nearby blanket over Ellie and she snuggled into it. "She can't go back to her apartment until the police are done processing it. Even if that wasn't the case, though, she's not entirely fond of going back to stay by herself."

"I don't blame her," Alister replied in just as soft a voice.

Because Ellie's apartment was now a crime scene, the young woman was not allowed to return until the police were finished with it. Raphael had offered to let Ellie stay with him at the biker's home until the apartment was cleared and Ellie had not protested in the slightest; it was almost three in the morning before the two of them got back to the house. Alister was still awake and waiting in the window seat when they came back, as he'd been downstairs when Raphael had hurried out the door.

Raphael had moved himself out of his bedroom to allow Ellie a comfortable place to sleep and had transferred himself down to the couch in the family room. Not too long after he had joined Alister downstairs, however, Ellie had limped down the steps and had curled up against Raphael's side; she had been jumpy and uneasy at every strange sound and she had deemed Raphael the safest place to be. She'd dozed off not too long afterward and Raphael had remained sitting upright to accommodate her.

He'd waited until Ellie had fallen asleep before quietly explaining to Alister what had happened (the redhead had not gone to bed, forsaking his normal bedtime in order to find out what was going on). He had no desire to make Ellie retell her story, as she was still highly upset and only just beginning to calm down.

"She's lucky, you know," Alister continued, glancing to make sure Ellie was still asleep. "If she hadn't had Sadie with her and if she hadn't had that wasp spray…well, I don't think you'll like what the outcome would have been."

"Whoever broke in is still out there, though," Raphael growled, eyes darkening. "He jumped out of Ellie's bedroom window when he realized she'd gotten away and the police are still tracking him down."

"Ellie's apartment is on the second floor, right?" asked the red-haired man. "He's bound to have broken something, Raphael. There's no way you come out of a jump like that unscathed. That's not even counting the hornet spray Ellie got in his face. That requires medical attention—it may not be pepper spray, but it's a concentrated dose of chemicals. They'll catch him once he reports to the hospital, Raphael."

Alister's face darkened. "But that's not what's bothering me."

At Raphael's questioning gaze, Alister said, "Ellie said that the man had told her something, correct?"

"Yeah—'I need you for my plans'," Raphael said, recalling what both the police and Ellie had told him. The moment he said it, however, his own features darkened as realization sunk in.

"You figured it out too, then." Alister looked grim. "That break-in wasn't random. Someone targeted Ellie on purpose."

Ellie shifted at his side and mumbled, and both of the bikers watched her for a moment, wondering if they'd inadvertently caused her to wake up. The young woman did not move any further, however, instead resettling herself. Raphael's gaze softened and he gently rested one of his hands on her shoulder.

"I'll take that as my signal to go to bed. There'll be plenty of chances to figure this out tomorrow," said Alister quietly. He rose to his feet and stopped at the doorway of the family room. "Do you want the lights out?"

"Yeah. I've got the lamp on over here and I'm not tired just yet. I'll read for a bit," Raphael replied, reaching for a nearby book.

Alister raised an eyebrow. "Are you sleeping in that position?"

Raphael nodded, glancing at Ellie again. "She's comfortable and I don't have the heart to move her back upstairs. Make sure Sadie doesn't get into anything up there, though—I think she's still in my room."

"I'll take her," Alister said. "I don't have anything valuable on the ground that Sadie can get into."

Alister disappeared from view and the barely audible sound of his footsteps on the stairs was the only sound that broke through the silence of the house.

Raphael turned his attention back to the book, and after making sure that Ellie was not bothered by the lamp being on he started to read.


	174. Forming Suspicions

_So I'm back. I've got a lot of post-college grad stuff left to do, but for the moment I have a breather and so I'll go ahead and update. Why not, haha :D_

_This one is a continuation from the previous chapter, so if you haven't read it yet go ahead and check it out. Set post series and I hope you like it!_

* * *

"_What?"_

Alister continued washing the pan, remaining quiet. He'd already explained what had happened the night before and it wasn't something he cared to do again.

Raphael and Ellie had both woken up about an hour ago and both had returned to her apartment to get what they could; Ellie's family had heard what had happened after the police had called them and they had insisted that she stay with them for a few days. Raphael had not protested, understanding the reason behind the concern, and had relayed to Alister what was going on before he'd left.

Alister did not doubt that Ellie would return once she'd recovered, but for now he felt it best to get her away from what he called the danger zone—he had not forgotten what he had heard from Raphael last night and until they knew more about her attacker it would be safest for her elsewhere.

The Australian had started pacing the kitchen and when Alister turned it was to find Valon glowering at a point on the wall. "You're sure tha' it wasn' random or somethin'?" he asked at last, looking back at Alister. "Maybe some bloke jus' broke into Ellie's apartment to—"

"I'm sure. Valon, the intruder specifically stated he needed Ellie for his plans. That meant she was a deliberate target," Alister replied firmly. "Of that, Raphael and I are certain."

"Then i's Gurimo," said Valon without hesitation. "I can' think of anyone else with a vendetta against us, 'n' targetin' Ellie t' get t' Raph sounds like somethin' Gurimo would do."

"That's what I thought too. There's only one problem with that thought: he's still in jail," said Alister, sitting down. "If he got out of prison we would have been the first to hear about it."

Valon scoffed. "Maybe the police decided not t' call us," he retorted.

Alister arched an eyebrow but did not comment—given Valon's experience with the police in the past he could understand why the Australian was reluctant to put his faith in the law. "Maybe so, but I called the police already. According to their records, Gurimo is still incarcerated and isn't out on parole."

Valon's fist clenched and he glowered at the table. "You really think tha' Gurimo didn' order someone t' go t' Ellie's apartment 'n' grab 'er?"

"I'm not dismissing that idea," said Alister grimly. He paused and turned his attention to his hands. "You're not going to like what I'm going to say next, Valon."

When the Australian looked back at him Alister continued, his gray eyes meeting Valon's. "If Ellie was indeed targeted because of her relationship with Raphael, then that means Shizuka's in danger too. The Ishtars might be in trouble as well, since you spend a lot of your time with them."

Valon paled, his eyes widening in realization. "Oh bloody…you don' think this bloke's gonna go after them too, do you?"

"Unfortunately, I do. It'd be best to notify them about what's going on—this isn't the first time we've warned the Ishtars about being in danger and Shizuka can't be left in the dark about this," Alister said heavily.

"Well we've got one less thing t' worry 'bout. The Ishtars are goin' back t' Egypt for the next few months. They're 'ere in Domino for part o' the year and in Luxor the other. They'll be leavin' in a couple days 'n' won' be in any danger then, but I'll warn 'em anyways." Valon got to his feet and started to pace again. "And callin' Shizuka? I'll do one better. I'll call Jounouchi 'n' tell 'im wha's up. 'e'll be ticked tha' I might get 'is sister into trouble, but 'e'll keep 'er safe 'n' tha's the important thing."

Valon sighed and flopped back into his seat. "But even if we tell 'em, wha' do we warn them about? We don' even know who it is targetin' us this time 'n' the only guy who coulda done it is rottin' in a cell," he said, sounding frustrated. "I mean, yeah, it might've been those idiots called the Angliss's, but they woulda come after me, not Ellie."

The Australian dropped his head into his hands with a groan; his fingers lifted his bangs up, allowing Alister to catch a glimpse of the barely visible scar on the far right side of his forehead. Most people would not have noticed it, but Alister had a penchant for seeing what others overlooked—besides, he remembered what that scar was from.

After all, the man who had given it to Valon was the same one who had shot Raphael.

"For now, it's best that we stay aware of our surroundings," he said aloud, and Valon lifted his head. "We'll warn those we've been around the most and in the meantime keep our eyes open around here. No one stays at the house by themselves, we know where we all are at any given point in the day, we check the house for signs of intrusion…you know, that sort of thing. We may not be able to peg anyone in particular for the attack on Ellie, but a healthy dose of caution never hurt anyone."

Alister got to his feet and went to the doorway of the kitchen. "Besides," he continued, "Ellie hurt her attacker. The police are looking for anyone having the injuries she inflicted. If he goes to a hospital he'll get arrested, so he'll be forced to tend to himself. I doubt he'll return until the injuries he has are healed."

Valon snorted and said darkly, "I 'aven' forgotten the last time we assumed anythin', chum. There's a storm comin' 'n' I don' think we're gonna like wha' 'appens when it 'its."

* * *

_No, guys, this is NOT the start of the final story arc, and as much as you probably want me to continue on in this vein I won't. I meant what I said when I told you it was chapter 190 when we see the final story arc. These past two chapters DO relate to it, however, so don't dismiss them._

_...I'm such a terrible, terrible authoress for leaving you all on a cliffhanger, aren't I?_


	175. Tents and Tubs

_It's been how long?_

_Sorry everybody, most of my attention has been on Real Life happenings and "The Princess and the Dragon". I haven't forgotten this story, though, and I do want to thank everyone still following/reviewing. Much appreciated, guys!_

_So this one is set during DOOM, sometime after "Desert Days and Snakes" and…well, haha, I hope you like it._

* * *

Valon readjusted the trash bag in his hand and stepped out onto the front porch, shivering when the cold breeze tickled his arms and legs; he had elected to wear a sleeveless shirt and shorts because it had been incredibly hot earlier that day and he was not needed on a mission. The sun had just gone down and with it came the chill of the night. Why the desert was colder at night and yet blazing hot during the day was something he still had not quite figured out.

Raphael, Alister, and Gurimo were currently not at the desert safehouse. They were still back at the nearest Paradius branch, filling out paperwork from their latest mission; in a rare change of pace Valon actually had gotten his paperwork done in advance (though he'd had some help from Raphael) and he had taken the opportunity to leave early. He had just gotten done eating a sandwich he had made when he saw the overfilled trashcan.

Valon paused when he saw the trashcan at the front of the driveway and then turned around, intending to get a flashlight. Raphael had said he had seen a coyote the other day and Valon did not want any surprise encounters in the dark.

Valon jumped when he heard the sound of the trashcan falling over and he looked back. The trashcan was now on its side, the contents spilling out on the ground. Valon made a face and dropped the bag he was carrying, stalking to the trashcan irritably after picking up a thick stick. He was not going to allow some stupid coyote to make a mess just after he had gotten everything clean.

"All right, fella, you're in for it," he muttered, stalking toward the fallen can. He waited to see if the creature would run as he approached, but his scowl deepened when he did not see anything run off into the shadows—the animal must have gone inside the can when it heard him coming.

"Oy, mate, out," he snapped, kicking the garbage can.

The trash can spun from the force of the kick, dislodging the creature inside and causing it to tumble out with an angry chatter. Valon could not immediately see it in the night, but the sound alone told him he was not dealing with a coyote. Curious and suddenly uneasy, he took a step closer to try and identify the animal—and he paled when he caught sight of the tail lifting into the air.

_Aw crap, tha's not a raccoon._

* * *

"The house is still upright, at least," Alister commented, his voice muffled by his helmet. He dismounted and pulled off his helmet, waiting for Raphael to catch up. Gurimo had claimed he had more errands to run (even though it was already so late in the evening), so it would be another couple of hours before they would see the return of the older man.

Raphael pulled up alongside him, and after he dismounted and pulled his helmet off he began to wheel it into the driveway. "I doubt Valon would have destroyed the house, Alister," he replied wryly.

"Given what he's capable of? It wouldn't surprise me if he blew up the kitchen just by sneezing," retorted Alister. As he followed after Raphael his face darkened and he held up a sleeved arm to his face, starting to cough. "Ugh. Remember how you were worried about that coyote?"

"I'm not now," Raphael said flatly, mimicking Alister as the putrid smell fully hit him. He noticed the trashcan nearby on its side, making sure to steer clear of the fallen item. "Looks like we got visited by a skunk."

"I'm not touching that," Alister announced, scowling at the fallen trash can. "Maybe later, but right now I've got a pounding headache and that smell is only making it worse."

"Besides," Raphael added, casting a wary look around the yard, "we don't know if that skunk is gone and I don't want to stick around to find out."

The two men hurried into the garage, closing the door behind them; they stayed in the garage long enough to set their helmets on the shelf. They were all too eager to escape the foul smell and as they entered the house they both heaved a sigh of relief. Alister set his keys on a nearby table and looked around. "House is intact, nothing on fire or damaged…okay, my faith in Valon has been somewhat restored."

Raphael was looking around for the younger Australian, frowning when he did not immediately see his younger friend. "Where's Valon? He had to have heard us come in."

"Maybe he's asleep. It is nightfall, after all," Alister suggested, padding into the kitchen. He dropped his motorcycle key on the counter, pausing as he heard something on the back porch. He crossed to the window, then stared. "Or maybe he's outside."

"Outside?"

Alister squinted, trying to make out what the youngest biker could be doing in the darkness; the back porch lights were on, allowing him to see some distance away from the house. "Yeah. He's outside, and it looks like he's…oh."

"What's wrong?" Raphael crossed the room to come alongside Alister. He found Valon in the darkness, and after watching him for a few moments he realized what Valon was doing and he groaned. "Oh no."

Alister was already unlocking the window and pulling up the glass pane. When he next spoke his voice was raised, clearly addressing the Australian. "Let me guess—you had a less-than-pleasant encounter with Pepe le Pew."

Valon looked up at them both, his facial expression alternating between utter misery, annoyance, and embarrassment. He was currently shirtless, though he still had on his shorts. At his feet was a still running garden hose, a soapy bucket of water, and a sponge; to prevent the smell from further spreading around the house Valon had dragged the hose as far away as he could manage.

"Don' even start, Alister!" Valon snarled, brushing back his soaked bangs. "I can' go in the 'ouse 'cause I got sprayed _twice_ by a skunk's butt perfume, I c'n barely see, my nose is burning 'n' I think I c'n actually taste this gross mess! I've been scrubbin' t' the point tha' my skin's rubbed raw, but no matter wha' I do I—still—_stink!" _he burst out angrily, kicking the plastic bucket and causing it to roll further into the darkness.

Raphael and Alister, though sympathetic with their youngest friend's plight, both had to try very hard not to laugh. "We'll do what we can to help you," Raphael called at last, shutting the window. He turned to Alister with a small frown and said, "I've never dealt with skunks before. I don't know how to get rid of the smell."

Alister sighed. "I have. I need a bottle of peroxide, baking soda, and liquid dish soap," he said, rummaging through the cupboards. "Do we have a tub of some sort? Valon will need it—oh, and get that pop-up tent Gurimo keeps telling us we need. Valon can use it as a makeshift shower."

It took a few minutes of looking through the garage, but Raphael managed to find the tent; he was also pleased to find a small metal tub that Valon could use as well. After shaking out the dust in the tub and putting the tent under his arm, he carried it outside and took it as close as he could manage to the boy; the powerful stench currently bathing his younger friend was enough to make his eyes water.

Raphael still set up the pop-up tent, as doing so would only take seconds, and once he was finished he dropped the tin tub before he retreated to the steps of the back door. "Sorry, Valon, but I can't handle staying around you right now," he said apologetically.

"No worries, mate. I'd be stayin' away from me too if I was in your shoes. Wha' do I do with these, anyways?" Valon asked, gesturing to the tub and the tent. He dragged the items back to where he had been before, but he still looked at a loss as to what he was supposed to do.

The window over Raphael's head opened again and Alister's voice called out, "Put the tub in the tent and fill it with water. Toss your clothes outside the tent when you're done stripping and start scrubbing again—I'll leave the soap you'll be using outside the tent."

A look of horror washed over Valon's features. "You want me t'…oh no. Not a chance—I am _not_ takin' my clothes off. You realized 'ow cold it is out 'ere?"

"Why do you think I brought the tent with me?" Raphael pointed out.

"Skunk spray has oils that stick to what it comes into contact with. It won't matter how hard you scrub, as long as you're wearing the clothes the skunk sprayed you'll just keep the smell on you," Alister explained when Valon shot him a mutinous glare.

The Australian was completely unhappy with this course of action, but when both Raphael and Alister firmly told him that he would not be allowed in the house as he was Valon finally gave in. He snatched up the tub and stalked into the tent with it, pulling the hose behind him; Valon then zipped the windows closed. A few minutes later a bundle of clothes flew out of the tent and hit the ground; seconds after that, Valon poked his head out of the tent entrance and glared at both his older friends.

"You're my chums 'n' all, but if either o' you come anywhere near 'ere I'll bloody kill you," he threatened.

"Believe me, Valon, we're staying right where we are," Alister said drily. "You reek of _eau de skunk_ right now and I rather enjoy breathing fresh air."

* * *

_So here's the scoop:_

_If you ever get sprayed by a skunk, take one quart of hydrogen peroxide, 1/4 cup of baking soda (or vinegar), and one teaspoon of liquid soap. Mix it together and use it while it's foaming. Personally, I've never used it and I don't know about using it on pets, but I've had friends use it on themselves before and based on what I've heard it's just about the only thing that really works._

_…Just be careful if you use it on your hair. It'll give you rather streaky highlights if you leave that stuff in too long._


	176. Guess Who I Met T'day?

_Without a doubt, this chapter is one of the most difficult things I've had to write in this story. For once, I don't think my author's note is going to do it justice. I'm not even sure if I'll ever pick up on where this chapter leaves off, so...yeah, safe to say that I'm reeling from all the different emotions this chapter generated._

_Set post-series and...well, I'll let this speak for itself._

* * *

Valon gave a contented sigh and flopped onto the park bench, tilting his head back and closing his eyes; he could feel the sunlight dappling his skin through the leaves above him. He was supposed to be getting groceries for Raphael, but it was such a nice day despite the chill in the air and Valon was happy enough to sit in the sunshine for a few moments before he went about his business—the grocery store was right across the street anyways.

There was a tired sounding laugh from his right. "It seems I'm not the only one enjoying this weather."

Valon jumped, his eyes snapping open as he looked back down. There was someone else sitting on the bench and Valon had simply not noticed him as he had sat down. The man was watching him from underneath a brown fedora and wore a long tan coat, dark blond hair framing his face; although the man was regarding the teenager with amusement there was a light of sadness that reached deep into his eyes.

Valon recovered and shrugged, a sheepish laugh leaving him. "Sorry, fella. I didn' see you there," he replied, starting to rise to his feet. "I'll jus' be on my way then."

"No no, you're fine!" said the man hastily, lifting his hands in the air and motioning for him to sit back down. There was the faintest hint of an accent to his voice that Valon had not caught before, and he felt as if it was something familiar. "Don't get up on my account. I won't trouble you—I'm just killing time until my flight leaves."

Valon sat down and, after a moment's pause, leaned into the back of the bench. "So…you live 'ere in town?" he asked, feeling slightly awkward. He felt bad that he'd interrupted this man's quiet time; it was a mark of living with Alister, he decided, because he knew there had been a time he would not have cared.

The man smiled, though there was the same pained expression still on his features. "Oh no, I don't live here. Domino's a temporary stop for me before I go on to Germany. I had some business I needed to attend to, and since I had some spare time left I figured I would take advantage of the good weather. I've got a taxi coming in about ten minutes," he explained.

Valon tilted his head inquisitively. "Domino's a fair distance from Germany, mate," he commented, folding his arms behind his head. "What kinda business did you 'ave 'ere?"

"You're quite the inquisitive one," came the rather amused remark, and Valon quickly looked away. "It's all right, though," he added with a warmer laugh. "I don't mind answering that particular question. It was personal business."

"Personal business, huh?" Valon settled more comfortably on the bench. "I getcha. You don' 'ave t' say more than that."

There was a brief pause before the man looked back over to him. "It's my turn to ask you a question. What brings you here?"

Valon, whose eyes had closed when the silence had fallen, opened one blue eye lazily and said, "It's my turn t' get groceries. The fellas 'n' I take turns—'xcept Alister tricked me this time into goin'. I didn' realize that 'e tricked me until I got 'ere," he added, making a face.

The man laughed again. "I take it you live with your friends?" he asked.

"Yeah," Valon replied brightly. "Alister's a right weird bloke, and Raph's a bit of a downer sometimes, but they're my best friends and I don' mind stickin' with them. We've been through quite a bit, y'know?"

"I can imagine."

Valon looked over at the older man with a curious expression. "Wha' 'bout you? D'you 'ave a family?"

A shadow passed over the other's features and he looked away. "I have a son right around your age," he said, suddenly sounding years older. "I've, ah, never met him though."

The Australian frowned at that. "Why's that?"

An exhausted, pained smile met him in response, and the man glanced at his watch. "I don't think I have time to explain it to you before my taxi gets here—it's rather complicated," he added when the younger Australian shot him a confused expression.

Valon mulled this over, and then shrugged with a laugh. "I'm not one f'r long stories or drama, mate. I'm more of a direct 'n' to the point kinda person. Anyways, Alister's always tellin' me I 'ave the attention span of a gnat."

There was a choked laugh. "At least he's honest," he replied, sounding amused.

"Depends on the mood you catch Alister in. Sometimes 'e's nice, sometimes 'e's a gumby—and tha's not countin' if you wake 'im up in the mornin' b'fore five," Valon said, suddenly aware he was babbling. Frowning at that, he fell silent. After mulling over his thoughts for a moment he glanced at his companion from the corner of his eyes. "You oughta see your kid at least once, y'know."

The man shot him a startled look before his expression went neutral. "Oh?"

"Well, yeah, I mean…" Valon scratched the back of his head, trying to find the words. "I'm kinda in your boy's shoes. I never got t' meet my dad 'cause 'e bailed on my mother 'n' I b'fore I was even born."

The man's shoulders slumped and there was a guilty edge to his voice when he next spoke. "Are you…are you mad at him for what happened?"

Valon grimaced, suddenly unhappy. _Of all things t' talk about, it 'ad to be this... _This man was a complete stranger, but for some reason he felt as if he could talk to him; a part of him was suspicious, as it had not been too long ago when an intruder had entered Ellie's apartment and the man was still at large, but even so he could not see any threat.

Valon looked up at the tree above him, where he could see a bird perched on one of the higher branches, and when he started to talk he kept his eyes trained on the bird above him.

"I was at first, I suppose," he began with a tired sigh. "I mean, my mum needed 'im t' be there for 'er when no one else would stand by 'er, and 'e up and left. My mother died right after I was born, so I never did get the chance t' ask 'er about 'im—but she left me a letter."

The man stiffened. Valon did not notice, as his attention was still on the bird above them.

"She didn' say much 'bout 'im, granted, and I don' even know wha' 'e looks like. But she did tell me tha' I couldn' blame 'im f'r wha' 'appened. Yeah, 'e walked out on 'er, but there were circumstances b'hind his leavin'—she never explained what made 'im leave, though she mentioned that it was somethin' f'r my dad t' tell me about if I ever met 'im.

"Anyways, she told me not to stay angry at 'im forever. I think she knew wha' my reaction would be t' findin' out 'bout my dad, so…I mean, I'm still mad at 'im. I don' think I c'n ever really forgive 'im for wha' he did, but if my mother was still willin' t' give 'im a chance in the end then 'e couldn' 'ave been all tha' bad."

Valon's eyes started burning as a familiar ache rose in his chest and he gave a shaky laugh. "Sorry 'bout tha'," he said, a small smile quirking his lips. "I'm probably not 'elpin' your mood any."

"Don't be." There was a very strange note to the man's voice. "Your mother…she was very wise, wasn't she?"

Valon grinned, forcing back the ache in his chest. "Point 'm makin' 'ere, chum, is tha' your kid might be mad at you but you've still got a chance. I mean, I'm basically in your boy's shoes 'n' I'm willin' to meet my dad in spite o' wha' 'appened."

There was a pause between them as the man mulled over Valon's words, but as he was about to speak Valon caught a flash of yellow and he pointed. "Looks like your ride's 'ere."

The man caught himself and, after recovering, bent down to catch his suitcase. "So it seems," he replied with a small smile, rising to his feet. "It's been nice speaking to you."

"Yeah…sorry 'bout bein' a wet blanket," the younger man replied with a laugh. "It's still sunny out, so I'm jus' gonna soak up some more of this good weather and keep on smilin' anyways."

The Australian sobered and said seriously, "I 'ope you work things out with your kid."

"…So do I. You've given me quite a bit of hope on the matter, so who knows?"

The man opened one of the back doors of the cab but hesitated, looking Valon directly in the eyes. "Enjoy the rest of your day, Valon," he said quietly, and Valon jumped as he realized that the accent he had heard before had come in full force now—the man was Australian, even though his accent had noticeably softened. After the man told his destination to the driver, he stepped into the car and even though Valon barely caught it he saw the man wave at him.

Valon waved back as the taxi pulled away from the curb, then stretched and rose to his feet. "Now I've got t' go get those groceries, b'fore Raph starts thinkin' I got into a wreck," he muttered as he for the grocery store.

It was not until Valon was inside the building, however, when something occurred to him and he froze, his eyes widening in shock as realization hit him.

That man had called him by name.

* * *

"You were gone quite a while," said Raphael, taking the plastic bags from the younger man.

Valon grinned at him, but there was something off about the familiar lopsided smile. "Yeah, sorry 'bout tha'. I was enjoyin' some sunshine—I mean, it's been pretty cold lately, 'asn' it?"

Raphael studied Valon with a frown. "Did something happen?"

Valon hesitated, his smile faltering, but then he shook his head. "Nothin' t' worry yourself over, Raph," he said, and a much more genuine smile lit his features. "I just gotta drop somethin' off upstairs 'n' then I'll be back down."

With that parting comment, Valon disappeared up the stairs; he passed by Alister as he went, and he scowled at the redhead before continuing on his way.

One of Raphael's eyebrows rose. "What was that about?"

Alister shrugged. "He probably realized I tricked him into going to the supermarket for me," he replied nonchalantly.

He took a few of the bags from Raphael before heading into the kitchen. The taller man remained where he was for only a few seconds before following after Alister; something was troubling Valon, he knew, but that was something for the younger man to tell him and Raphael would not pry.

* * *

Valon entered his room, closing the door behind him and leaning heavily against it. He remained where he was for several minutes, his eyes blurring as the ache in his chest returned in full force, before he crossed over to his nightstand. He gently lifted the wooden picture frame sitting on it, cradling it in both his hands as he gazed at the woman in the photo.

"'ey, Mum," he greeted, his voice catching. "You'll never guess who I met t'day."


	177. Lost Children and Pirates

_Lo and behold, we have an update for this fic. Sorry for abandoning you guys for so long - "The Princess and the Dragon" has become the center of attention for a lot of my plot bunnies._

_This one is set post-series as a present for **The Duelist's Heiress. **Happy (belated) birthday, TDH, and I hope you enjoy this!_

* * *

"Nighttime, daytime, for allergies…well, I _know_ he's not a child, so that's out. This is the part I wish Sister was here for, she usually shops for this stuff. Why are there so many different kinds? _WHY."_

Valon paused at the familiar and frustrated voice, tilting his head curiously before backpedaling. He had been running errands with Alister at a local grocery store, though he had ended up separated from his older friend; he'd been looking for the redhead when he had heard that voice. It was not Alister's, but it was someone he knew.

He scanned the aisles as he passed, halting only when he saw the other teenager at the end of the aisle. He took a moment to correctly identify the individual before he called out a surprised greeting. "Marik, whatcha doin' 'ere?"

The Egyptian started, looking over as Valon came down the aisle. "Shopping," he replied wryly, gesturing to the rack in front of him.

"I know tha'," said Valon impatiently. "I mean, why aren' you in Luxor? I thought you left already."

"I would have, but something came up," Marik said, the first sign of worry creasing his brow. "Rishid's had bronchitis for the past couple of weeks, but he's been getting over it and we thought he'd be okay to travel. He caught a fever yesterday morning, though, and…I couldn't let him travel, not with a fever!" he continued, eyes flashing.

Valon held up his hands in a placating gesture. "You don' 'ave to defend yourself from me, chum. I get where you're comin' from. So you lot stayed b'hind?"

"Sort of. Ishizu had to go. She doesn't have a choice in the matter when it comes to returning, as she works part time for the Egyptian government. Rishid and I are remaining here until he's well enough to travel. That means _no_ fevers and having the ability to breathe without wheezing," Marik said flatly.

Judging by the tone of his last words, Valon gained the impression that Marik had argued this point earlier—most likely with Rishid himself. The Australian had not missed the fact that Rishid often put the needs of his family ahead of his own.

"Speakin' of Rishid, where is 'e?" he asked then.

"I had to sneak out when he fell asleep. If Rishid knew I was leaving he'd have insisted on coming along," Marik said, looking half exasperated and half amused. The look faded, however, and Marik returned his gaze to the rack. "I wish I knew what to get him. We don't have anything on hand for colds, and Ishizu and I weren't expecting this whole bronchitis thing at all. He still has the antibiotics the doctor prescribed for him, but beyond that we've got nothing else."

"'aven' you lot gotten sick before?"

"I have, and even Ishizu has before now. As far as Rishid goes, though, I think this is the first time the man's been sick in his entire life."

Valon gawked, staring at Marik with stunned disbelief. "You serious? 'e 'asn' even gotten one case of the sniffles b'fore now?"

"Nope. That's Rishid for you—and to be honest, I'm glad that he stayed healthy as long as he has," said Marik, and for the briefest of seconds his eyes darkened. "If he'd gotten sick earlier in life I don't think he'd be around today, considering…"

Marik trailed off, his jaw tightening. Valon wisely kept his mouth shut, though the question nearly escaped him. He had come to learn that, very much like Alister, Marik had his own secrets to keep. One day he'd ask, but not today.

Instead, Valon turned his attention to the rack filled with medicine, eyeing it contemplatively before he started moving. "This Vicks stuff reeks, but Raph swears by it when 'e's ill. 'e says that it makes it easier t' breathe," he began, grabbing a small blue jar and showing it to Marik. "You jus' rub it on your throat and chest 'n' you should be good t' go. Then there's these cough drops—oh, 'n' we can' forget those meds, not at all."

"What are you doing?" Marik asked incredulously, watching as Valon proceeded to dump a handful of boxes into the basket on the Egyptian's arm.

"This might be the first time Rishid's been ill, but Raph's caught colds_ tons_ of times b'fore 'n' 'e even 'ad bronchitis at one point," said Valon, his eyes roaming the shelf to make certain he had everything he needed. "I still recall some o' the meds 'e used, and I know Alister certainly remembers."

The surprise left Marik's face as he gazed into the basket on his arm. When he looked back up at the Australian a grateful expression had lit his features. "You're a life-saver," he said, following after Valon. "You have no idea how much this helps."

Valon shot the other teen a grin. "It's not a problem. I look after my chums," he replied, then stopped in the middle of the aisle. "Now let's see 'ere. If I'm recollectin' righ', 'avin' bronchitis means Rishid's gotta be 'avin' a tough time swallowin'. Alister came up with this thing t' eat f'r Raph, 'cause the poor bloke couldn' even 'ave soup at one point. 'ere, let's see if we can' find 'im—"

"Alister is here at the store with you?"

"Yup. I was lookin' f'r 'im when I bumped into you."

"Oh, that's good. You don't have to call him," said Marik, sounding oddly relieved.

Valon laughed as he realized why. "Alister always sounds like 'e's about t' bite your 'ead off, even when 'e's talkin' t' Raph. 'e's a decent enough bloke, though—after all, 'e's one of my best friends. Tha's gotta say somethin' about him."

It was at that moment when they heard a small bell ding on the loudspeakers through the store before a woman's voice began speaking. "_Attention, shoppers. We have a lost child in our store. His name is Valon. He is about five foot eight and he has been described as having brown hair with goggles on his head, blue eyes, and he has an Australian accent. He is wearing a red leather jacket with black jeans and red boots. Again, his name is—"_

The Australian's grin completely vanished as several shoppers, including Marik, turned to look at him."I'm gonna kill 'im," he muttered, turning red as whispers began rising in the air.

* * *

Marik closed the bedroom door gently behind him before he tiptoed back downstairs. "He's going back to sleep," he announced once he got back downstairs. "I have convinced him to take a nap. Given what you told me about the things we bought, I don't think he'll be able to stay awake even if he wanted to."

Valon, who had been watching a movie on the television downstairs, paused at that. "Well, tha's just Raph's reaction to the stuff. Poor fella jus' goes completely loopy when you give 'im cold meds," he replied. "Not sure 'ow Rishid's gonna fare, though."

"Either way, a chance to let him sleep is better than a poke in the eye," said Marik, flopping onto the sofa. Noticing that Valon was now sprawled on the floor, he frowned. "You don't have to stay over here, you know. I can take care of Rishid myself."

"Oh I know tha'. Raph's at work and 'm ticked at Alister f'r earlier, and with Shizuka still in school there's nothin' f'r me t' do except be bored," came the lazy reply. "If I gotta be bored I might as well be bored over 'ere."

Marik shrugged, then grabbed a blanket and settled in on the nearby sofa. "Suits me just fine."

"I was watchin' this pirate movie while you were upstairs. Wouldn' it be somethin' t' be a pirate or t' be on one o' those boats? No rules, free t' go wherever you want to, and you don' 'ave t' worry about payin' bills or the like," Valon said, a faraway look on his face. "Raph's not fond o' boats 'n' Alister don' care, but I think that it'd be cool."

"It's not nearly as fun as you think it is to own one of them. There's all the rigging and the sails to maintain, you're at the mercy of the winds, and good luck docking that thing in ports," Marik replied bluntly. "As far as the piracy aspect goes it's not that great either because—Valon, why do you have that look on your face?"

The Australian was staring at him with rounded, almost saucer-sized eyes. "You owned a pirate ship?" he breathed, a grin splitting his face. "Tha's bloody amazin'! What was it like? Did you talk like a pirate? Did you wear pirate clothes? Did you tell your crew to swab the poopdeck?"

Marik opened his mouth to answer, intending to set the record straight before Valon started seriously misconstruing things. His time as a Rare Hunter—and his time owning a ship similar to the _Black Pearl_—was not something fun to reminiscence about and he'd certainly never had any sort of fun while he had been aboard. He'd been too busy plotting the Pharaoh's downfall for that.

One look at Valon's almost childlike, expectant and wonder-filled face stopped him from doing it.

He took a moment to recover before he started to grin as well. Valon had never been on the ship with him and Rishid was upstairs—who would contradict him if he stretched the truth a little bit?

"I did, actually," he began, his smile growing.

* * *

Rishid supposed he ought to have asked about the couch while he had been downstairs.

He had come down to get himself a drink of water when he had seen that the sofa had been fashioned into a bizarre semblance of a pirate ship, his brother at the front and his friend in the back. As he had silently watched, the two boys had begun firing "cannonballs" (pillows) at an imaginary target.

The older man debated on inquiring about this latest turn of events, and then he decided against it and went back upstairs. Marik _had_ warned him that the cold medicine might have some side effects—perhaps he was dreaming.

* * *

_No, I'm not fabricating Marik's ship. Marik legitimately had a pirate ship at one point in the anime (not the manga). Check out the episodes involving mind-controlled!Bandit Keith for proof of that, haha :D_


End file.
